


Wanderlust Kings

by aquamarineisthecolor



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:38:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquamarineisthecolor/pseuds/aquamarineisthecolor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry works in a grocery store. It depends on who you ask, but Louis might be a psycho. And Liam, Zayn, and Niall (mostly Niall) are just eating the popcorn, trying to survive the chaos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He Could Probably Work Harder For The Money

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, I thought it was high time for me to contribute something to the wonderful world of fanfiction (WWF²), so this is the result of that thought process. The decision to make this a multi-chaptered fic was heavily influenced by the fact that (A) it's not finished and I just want to post part of it before I lose my nerve (B) individual chapter names are fun (C) individual chapter names are fun...
> 
> Disclaimer: my punctuation is horrible? also One Direction own themselves and this story was whispered to me by my overactive imagination.

The music played. The delicate falsetto aided the tension. The drum beat steadied on with a subtle intensity. And then, _there!_ Right _there_. Finally, _the release_.

_"I don't wanna wait! For our liiiveess to bee OVER!! want to know right now, what will it beeeee. ah na, na, na, na! I DON'T WANNA WA-"_

"HARRY!" Reggie, his boss, stood in the doorway looking less than amused and mostly exhausted as he interrupted Harry's impromptu concert.

"Oh, hey, Reg," Harry said quietly, slowly turning the radio's volume dial and effectively letting the song (and the memories of Dawson's Creek drama) fade out.

"Harry," Reggie pinched the skin between his eyes as if to ease the pain of Harry's existence, "you're a good person, and i know you need this job. But I really, really, _really_ need you to take things more seriously around here." He looked at Harry like he wasn't 100% sure they spoke a mutually understood language.

"You know there was the incident with Johnny's deliveries last week, and we all know everyone makes mistakes. I get it, I _do_."

The Incident With Johnny's Deliveries had happened that past Thursday when, well, the delivery guy named Johnny arrived to deliver new inventory for the store. Harry was supposed to be there to let the guy in because Reggie had had to go out of town for the day. Harry said he'd be there and technically he was. It wasn't entirely his fault that he fell asleep in the basement storeroom while attempting (and failing) to find an energy bar to keep himself awake at the ungodly hour of 5 am. He could've sworn the store sold energy bars, he used to buy them there all the time before he was an actual employee, but he couldn't find them anywhere. It was inexplicable really. 

He later realized, with glee, that the energy bars were still a store-wide staple before realizing, in shame, that they had been nowhere to be found because they were out of stock and needed to be replenished by Johnny and his fully stocked truck. The whole ordeal had only set things back a day. Johnny came again the next morning and everything went according to plan. 

Harry had four crumpled energy bar wrappers lining the counter before him to show to anyone who said otherwise.

"But then there's the issue with you eating the store's food," Reggie continued, still listing the problems with Harry's work performance. "And you know, every once in a while it's okay to have a little snack, I sneak a pack of Razzles every time and again to go with my tuna bacon & nutella sandwiches," he laughed softly to himself, readjusting his sweater vest as Harry tried not to gag. "But if you could just try to be a bit more... professional?" He said it tentatively, like he was trying to spare Harry's feelings, and to be honest, that's probably exactly what he was doing.

Harry stood up from his stool behind the counter. "Reggie, I'm really sorry. I know you took a chance on me, and I know you did my mum a favor by hiring me, and I really appreciate it. From now on things will be perfect. Perfectly professional, okay?" 

It started out as a speech to placate, but Harry found that he meant every word. Reggie really was a nice guy whose only real faults included not so subtly trying to get a date with his mom, and an apparent love for really disgusting sandwich combinations. Truthfully, with all the assholes his mother had dated, Reggie would be a much nicer, albeit nerdier, change of pace. And as far as his tuna bacon fixation went, well as long as he wasn't forcing Harry to eat it, he had minimal complaints.

"Okay then," Reggie smiled. "How about we start fresh, yeah? Clean slate!" clapping Harry on the shoulder.

"Sounds good. Hey, why don't you leave a little early today, hm? Give me a chance to close up the store, show you some of my rumored responsibility?" he suggested with a smile.

Reggie looked nervous, but in a twist of blind faith dug into his pocket and pulled out a jingling set of keys.

"I suppose I can use my spare set at home to open tomorrow," he reasoned with himself. "I believe in you, Harry. It only takes one good choice to change your fate." 

He said it with a strong conviction, as if successfully closing up the store and not doing something stupid like losing the keys would guarantee a destiny filled with good fortune. He knew Reggie meant well though, so he took the keys from him with what he hoped was an enthusiastically positive head nod. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, Harry. Bright and early!"

"Bright and early," he agreed as he gently pushed Reggie toward the front door. He gave one more look back in Harry's direction, and a quick, yet noticeably worried glance around the store before the door was opening and closing behind him, leaving Harry alone at last. 

\------------------

It had been about an hour and a half since Reggie left the store completely in Harry's hands and everything was going well. He had turned the music back on, but took care to sing along a tad quieter than he usually would have. He even began to sweep up some dried leaves that had been tracked in from the few customers that had trickled in and out within the last hour. Being more professional, right? That's what this was? Getting used to cleaning a little bit, actually helping out at the place where he expected to get paid?

He was washing down the deli counter, with actual soap, when suddenly the store's front door burst open. He quickly moved to the counter closest to the door, the one that housed the main register, and smiled at the new customer. The guy looked to be in his early 20's, maybe. Shorter than Harry himself, he had caramel colored hair and a thoroughly confused expression on his admittedly attractive face. His _extremely_ attractive face if Harry was being completely honest. And Harry was ready to be the most professional of the professionals. He was ready to throw the assist, to help this guy find the exact brand of rice he was searching for, to slice some deli meats in accordance with the paper thin preference that had been hypothetically requested. 

He opened his mouth, ready to recite Reggie's usual store greeting. "Hello, welcome to Gilligan's Grocery! May I hel-"

"Excuse me! I'm wondering if this establishment carries fuel," the caramel colored customer asked with a slightly crazed look in his gorgeous blue eyes.

"Fuel." Harry had to be sure he had heard him correctly, having a feeling he had as he silently wished for some elaboration.

"Airplane fuel? You see, I'm clean out and I desperately need to gas up the jet for Gran's big trip to Antigua."

Harry had obviously forgotten the cardinal rule of being careful what you wish for.

"Oh, well I-"

"97th birthday! Can you believe it?! Strong as an ox, that one! Still plays football! Every Sunday morning, 6 am on the button," he stared unblinkingly into Harry's eyes, "like clockwork."

The guy was friendly enough, Harry supposed, if a little odd. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, but figured a little validation couldn't hurt. He decided to just go for it. 

"Well that's great." 

Harry realized he might've made a mistake when the stranger's eyes began to narrow.

"Great?" he parroted darkly, like Harry had offended him and his entire family with a less than stellar adjective.

"It's a little more than _great._ " He glanced quickly at Harry's name-tag before staring into his eyes once again. "I think you'll find, _Harry_ , that it's actually quite fucking fabulous! The woman is a goddamn superhero; almost stronger than me! And I mean, she's clearly outlived most of her generation. What, exactly, have _you_ done that tops that specific accomplishment?"

It sounded like a legitimate question but Harry could slowly feel the anger starting to drip off the man, seeping into the store's atmosphere. 

He might've preferred a gas leak.

"No, no! I think it's wonderful! Really, I swear." He hurried to get the words out, desperately trying to conduct some sort of damage control.

The boy suddenly stopped then, and looked up at him with glistening eyes- tearful- would be the word Harry would use to describe it, and if this guy started crying Harry was so going to be fired.

"You think," he whispered, "it's _wonderful_ that Gran, _my_ Gran, has outlived almost all of her dearest friends and family members?"

"Of course not!" Harry replied with urgency, hands hovered over the counter in front of him as if physically trying to keep the situation at bay.

"This is all just a huge misunderstanding!" he continued to explain, attempting to backtrack and start the conversation over, right before it took a wrong turn and veered off a cliff.

"All I've been trying to say is that I don't think this is the right kind of place for purchasing-"

"THE RIGHT KIND OF PLACE FOR PURCHASING _WHAT?_ " 

And the beautiful man exploded. 

"THE RIGHT KIND OF PLACE FOR PURCHASING MATERIALS THAT PLAY AN IMPERATIVE ROLE IN MAKING DREAMS COME TRUE!? IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE TELLING ME?! THAT THE QUOTE UNQUOTE GOOD PEOPLE OF GILLIGAN'S GROCERY ARE WILLING TO JUST GO ABOUT THEIR EVERYDAY LIVES AND ACT AS THOUGH NOTHING TERRIBLE IS HAPPENING AS I TRUDGE BACK TO GRAN'S HOUSE, IN THE POURING RAIN, AND TELL HER THAT WE WON'T BE TRAVELING TO ANTIGUA, AFTER ALL?"

And really, thanking this particular customer was probably a good idea, because in the span of 5 minutes Harry had become an official supporter of the Looks Aren't Everything Argument. This guy looked like he was specially made to make Harry's wet dreams come true, and he most likely had a monogrammed straitjacket and a padded cell he called home.

Fucking Straitjacket Ken. 

And that was when it hit him.

"It isn't raining."

Mystery man's face suddenly eased into a slightly less murderous expression. "What?" it was asked with a sort of attitude that suggested Harry wasn't making any sense, which, if he wasn't, at least he could join the club.

"You said you're dreading having to walk in the 'pouring rain', " he held up the appropriate air quotes, "but it's not raining." 

Mystery caramel stranger turned his attention to the store's front window. The trees swayed in the breeze, the sun shone brightly, a child strolled hand-in-hand with her elders, enjoying the crisp fall day.

"So it would seem." He stared longingly into the distance and sighed, "Oh well. Jig's up, I suppose" 

"You- Wait, what?" Harry was confused and, frankly, a little frightened. 

He suddenly got flashbacks of that one time he and Zayn smoked that weed that was supposedly "super dank" and watched the Teletubies for two and a half hours.

He felt like he was in the damn twilight zone.

"You've been a good sport. I'd say I'd love to do this again sometime soon, but it doesn't really work the second time round. Well, not usually, anyway."

"I don't know what you're talking about.This is some sort of joke?"

"You're a little slow on the uptake, aren't you." It's more of a rhetorical comment than a question, and he considered being offended when he heard, "Still cute though," and was presented with a startlingly wide grin. 

And what was that thing about the looks not being everything or something? A smile (a glorious, glorious smile) could not erase a boatload of crazy. And yet.

"See ya round, Harry," saluting as he swung the door open and ducked out the way he came in.


	2. If He Likes It Let Him Do It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis' POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i think each chapter is going to alternate viewpoints. They'll probably all be Harry or Louis, but i might shake things up, you never know. First chapter was Harry, as you could probably tell, and this chapter is Louis. 
> 
> Oh, and the title for this chapter is from a 'The Drums' song by the same name. it's always awkward when a band's name has a "The" 
> 
> goddamnit.

It was late by the time Louis finally made it back to his apartment. With no car, and no rich friends who _had_ cars, he was forced to take the bus almost everywhere. Which was not always a bad thing. Some of his very best ideas had been brought to life while rolling along on public transport. That specific night's _Grand Idea_ included dressing Liam up as a milkmaid and running around the town square with his glossy 8'10 asking people how many goats they thought he was worth. Louis decided, as he unlocked his apartment door, he'd resolutely refuse anyone who offered less than 4 1/2 goats for Liam's hand. Neither him nor his best friend had time for heathens. Pushing open the door, Louis came face to face with the angel himself.

Liam looked up at him from his place on the couch. "Where have you been?"

"Good evening, Mother." Louis threw his keys at the wall and collapsed next to his roommate.

Liam eyed him curiously. "What are you wearing?"

Louis had gone for a sort of Breakfast Club criminal meets heroin chic for his visit to Gilligan's Grocery. He had actually been a bit impressed with Cashier Harry's lack of outfit commentary. Then again, he was probably a little distracted, Louis thought victoriously.

"Last minute dress rehearsal, Mother." 

"And by dress rehearsal, you do mean an actual dress rehearsal?" He continued warily, "for a play?"

Louis nodded with a sincere grin.

"A play with other people in it? Other people besides you?" he questioned further. 

Louis sighed, exasperated. "All the world's a stage, Liam," throwing the back of his hand dramatically over his forehead and he leaning on Liam, "everyone plays a part."

"Oh, you're not serious." Liam groaned tiredly, shrugging Louis' head off his shoulder.

"And what is that supposed to mean? When have I ever been anything but completely, utterly, and wholly serious?"

Apparently, Liam didn't feel the need to dignify his question with a response. "You can't just keep bombarding random people, Louis. Your performances are going to get you arrested."

"I should be so lucky to elicit such a strong, emotional reaction!" Louis shot back, head held high.

"Louis, I'm serious."

"You're still sour over the funeral home thing," he accused, and waved his hand dismissively.

" _You got us banned for life!_ " Liam cried incredulously. 

"And the joke's on them, isn't it? Because when we actually _need_ to go to the funeral home we'll no longer _be_ alive!"

And yep, it was happening again. Louis could see the resistance in his eyes but, _oh yes_ , Liam was officially engaging. He mentally rubbed his hands together and laughed maniacally.

"What about a funeral for someone other than yourself? Friends? Family?"

"You're taking this to a dark place, Payne. But if they decide to be so selfish as to plan their funerals at the one funeral home in the entire world that we've been banished from, then they're not true-blue friends and we should have no interest in them or their bloody funerals." Louis egged him on further.

Liam remained in his reasonable mind as per usual. "But loads of funeral arrangements are planned years in advance! And it's not as though we've sent out emails with a list of places we're no longer--," Louis waited with baited breath for him to continue. "Why am I apart of this conversation?" 

They were so close.

"You started it!" Louis pointed his finger in an effort to physically send the blame in Liam's direction. 

"So you'll have no trouble if i decide to end it then," Liam finished.

"Well you _do_ always finish what you start. You know I've always admired that about you, Li. And your cooking! Oh how you've dazzled the masses, time after time, with the way you create such delicious, yet deceptively nutritious meals in almost no time at--"

Liam sighed, "there's pasta in the fridge."

"Spaghetti?" he asked monotonously.

"Orzo," Liam countered in an equally pitched drone.

"You're a blessing," he cooed, and kissed Liam's cheek before making his way to the kitchen. 

"So I was thinking-" Louis yelled to make his voice heard through the wall as he heated up some pasta.

Liam predictably stopped him from speaking. "Don't do that, please."

Louis scoffed, "RUDE!" and continued, " _anyway_ I was thinking of this new installation, yeah? You'd have minimum interaction, I swear-"

"Nope," Liam stated plainly.

"No, but listen, you wouldn't even have to be with me for the actual performance!"

"Nope," Liam stood his ground.

"Li, you'd only have to wear the milkmaids outfit for like 10 minutes." 

The silence grew to a deafening decibel before Liam finally responded with a quiet, "Lou, not even if your life depended on it."

Louis couldn't see his face through the kitchen wall, but he'd known Liam for 7 years and counting, and so, he waited.

Waited.... Waited...And...

Defeat.

"Okay, if your _life_ depended on it, _maybe_ , but your _actual_ life, yeah? Not your _'artistic_ life.' "

Louis stopped trying to control his laughter and yelled, "AH HA! BETTER SHAVE THOSE LEGS TONIGHT, PAYNE! AT DAWN, WE RIDE!"

He retrieved his dinner from the microwave and grabbed a fork before hastily digging in.

Victory was Louis' favorite type of pasta sauce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, i know it's short but i'll be updating regularly. Not sure how long it's going to be but chapters will get longer. Actual plot-lines are being developed as we speak. keep the faith!


	3. Lucia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's Pov

Roses were red, violets were actually violet, Mean Girls 2 was the worst idea that anyone had ever had, and Zayn was late. 

Harry stood outside of Gilligan's after having just locked up. He checked, double-checked, and triple- checked that any and every entrance was locked, and was under the store awning as he waited for Zayn to pick him up. It was in that spot that he began to think of a list of things he knew to be true. Next on his list was the fact that it was fucking raining. Hard. Which, of course, catapulted his thoughts back to that afternoon, when that caramel frappuccino of a man, who apparently predicted the weather, blew into the store, and blew out again, leaving Harry feeling like an idiot. 

He kept imagining the scene in his head. He saw himself in the store, heard the door open, and watched on as he was faced with the stranger trying to rile him up with his crazy antics. But this time Harry was prepared. In this Do-Over Dreamworld, he cut down contrived lines spoken by sexy strangers at record speed with his razor-sharp wit! 

"Ohh, _exxcuuusee mee_?!" Harry's mind replayed the dialogue for him, giving the Do-Over Dreamworld Customer an annoyingly whiny voice in what Harry considered to be a thoughtful act of solidarity. "Does this establishment carry _fuel?_ " 

Harry's dream clone of himself stood up tall, kicked over his stool, lifted himself up, and smoothly did a one-handed cartwheel off the counter, landing perfectly in front of the awestruck man. "YES! AS A MATTER OF FACT WE _DO_ CARRY FUEL! FUEL FOR YOUR _BODY_! it's called FOOD and it's _ONLY_ the stuff that keeps you fucking _ALIVE_! I'm not surprised you haven't heard of it, you and your vampire Gran probably have a slightly different diet than the QUOTE UNQUOTE GOOD PEOPLE HERE AT GILLIGAN'S GROCERY!"

In his dreamworld everybody laughed, because of course their interaction was being taped in front of a live studio audience, permanently documenting Harry's _BURN_ of a comeback.

Back in the real world, he realized he might have been overreacting, but he'd had a lot of time to ruminate over the situation, and the more he thought about it, the more it bothered him to think that the guy was more than likely pleased with his ability to pull one over on Harry. He was probably still laughing at him, actually. With all his friends. Maybe even some of his enemies.

Suddenly, Harry was pulled from his thoughts by a flash of headlights and a honking horn. Zayn and his ride had arrived. He ran over to the car as it rolled up alongside the curb, pulled open the passenger side door, and hopped in. 

"Hey man, sorry I'm late. Had a last minute appointment today. Made me wash 'em down before I could leave. I tried to get away to call you but i was up to my elbows in-," 

"Yeah, it's okay." Harry cringed and shook the rain water from his curly hair. He didn't need the details, "don't worry about it."

Harry could tell Zayn enjoyed the thorough discomfort his job caused him. "You're a prick," he declared as Zayn kept an amused smirk glued to his face.

"Sorry, sorry," Zayn said, in a tone that accurately measured the little amount of remorse he actually felt.

"So," Harry inquired, "what are we doing tonight? Where's Niall?"

"He went fishing."

"Fishing."

Zayn nodded.

"In the pouring rain," Harry verified, slightly annoyed at the familiar phrase. Honestly he needed to get over it, the guy meant nothing to him.

"Yeah," Zayn agreed, "it started up after he was already there. He's only down the pier. I told him we'd swing round and pick him up on the way home."

"Niall literally lives around the corner from the pier."

"Yup." Zayn held onto the steering wheel with one hand, pulled out a cigarette, shoved it between his lips, and lit it with the other. Harry watched as his eyes never once left the road.

"He could walk home, though. He could've been home all this time." Harry knew it was futile to even try to decipher Niall's thinking, so he stopped his attempts as they pulled up right outside the pier.

"He wanted to ride in the back," Zayn finally started to explain.

"Ride in the ba-," Harry's words were stopped short as the rear door flew open, and a drenched Irishman, holding a bucket that smelled unmistakably of fish, dove headfirst into the back of the car. "Oh, Jesus."

"Hiya lads!" Niall greeted. He quickly pulled the door shut behind him before spreading out all along the back, lying starfished with his fishing pole clutched to his chest.

Zayn looked back at him and smiled. "Catch anything, Ni?"

Niall looked almost offended as he sat up halfway, spun around to face them, reached into his bucket, and pulled out 4 medium sized fish linked together by some fishing line. Niall _always_ caught something. There were no exceptions.

"How long have you been waiting here?" Harry asked.

Niall closed his eyes and laid back down. He breathed deep as rain water seeped into the car's interior beneath him.

"Couple hours?" he answered with a shrug.

Zayn started driving again and shook his head before saying, "Niall, Harry wants to know why you didn't just walk home." 

Niall opened his eyes and leaned back on his forearms. "I wanted to ride in the hearse, man!" a big smile filled his face.

Harry laughed and looked at Zayn, braced himself for what he knew was coming.

"If you're going to address my baby, you better do it properly, or this'll be the last ride of your life, mate. You get me?" Zayn warned.

Niall quickly sat up all the way, legs crossed, and held up his hands in surrender, "Okay, Okay, I'm sorry."

"And you're apologizing to whom?" Zayn goaded, simultaneously blowing smoke out the slightly opened window.

Niall rolled his eyes, smile never leaving his face. "I am sorry, _Lucia_." He stroked the carpeted floor like it was a cuddly animal and not a means of transportation for the recently departed. " _Sweet, lovely, gentle_ , Lucia. I never meant to hurt _you_ or your _boyfriend's_ feelings."

Zayn adjusted the rear-view mirror to find Niall's face and blew him a kiss. "That's more like it."

A couple more minutes riding around in _Lucia_ and Zayn brought them to a stop as they pulled up outside of Zayn and Harry's rented 2 bedroom house. Zayn was doing pretty well for himself helping out at his family's funeral home, and Harry, well, he had a bit of money saved, the "fate-changing" keys to Gilligan's in his pocket, and a strong will that was mostly fueled by not wanting to be forced to move back into his mother's house. He was only 18 but he'd been on his own for awhile and he liked it far too much to have it taken away without even trying to maintain it. 

Harry and Zayn opened their respective car doors and started to climb out while Niall gave a temporary goodbye to the hearse of his dreams. 

"Mate, I think you need to get a hearse of your own," Zayn said as he pulled him out of the back opening and grabbed the bucket of fish to carry.

"Don't I know it," Niall huffed in agreement, stroking the vehicle's smooth black paint. "Maybe one day, Zaynie, maybe one day."

 

\-----------

A few hours later, after a few games of FIFA, a few too many beers, and ordering 2 large pizzas when they realized Niall could catch the fish, but no one knew how to actually cook them, the three boys sat in the living room, splayed out, and staring at the ceiling in companionable silence. 

Until Harry felt the urge to share.

"So this guy came into the store today-"

"Was he hot?"

"D'you fuck 'im?"

Zayn and Niall commented at the same exact time before sharing lazily aimed high-fives over Harry's head.

Honestly, Harry wouldn't trade his friends for the world.

"No, you sex-crazed jackals, i did not fuck him"

"Mmm," Zayn hummed, "but you wanted to." It wasn't even a question, apparently. "What happened? Was Reggie lurking about? D'you reckon that'd even stop him, Niall?"

"Nah, he'd probably take him to the basement, grab a few cucumb-"

Harry slapped Niall on the back of the head, a move that effectively halted the conjuring of his crude imagery, as he laughed madly and clutched at Zayn.

"If you would let me tell the goddamn story, you would know that I wouldn't have touched him even if I had gotten the chance." He continued, "this guy came into the shop and just talked nonsense for a few minutes. He was completely mental. Wish i had it on tape," he finished.

"I bet you do," Zayn cackled.

"Christ," Harry breathed, tired, yet somehow still energized enough to be amused.

"Hey, you guys wanna go to the square tomorrow? Market 'll be up, and Nick wanted to get a game goin' later on," Niall yawned and reached over to flick one of Harry's curls.

"Sounds good, I'm off tomorrow," Zayn answered, looking in Harry's direction for his response.

"I'm working 'til 3, but I'll meet you there."

They all mumbled some sort of affirmation at that before silently agreeing to mutually pass out. Harry and Zayn each had their own room, and Niall was always geared up to take the couch whenever he crashed at theirs. So as usual, no one moved, and they fell asleep on the floor amongst greasy pizza boxes, empty bottles, and the strangely comforting smell of Niall's fishy clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm excited. Next chapter things will be coming together.
> 
> Thanks for reading, it means a lot. Hopefully someone out there is enjoying this :)


	4. Amish Go-Go Girls Don't Go-Go To Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis' POV

"And you know, we have the 27x41 as well, if you really want it to be noticed! Might take a bit longer to develop, but I could put a rush on it! And I think it would be _so_ worth it, Louis, I _really_ do," Millie expressed passionately, as she adjusted the collar on her bright blue uniform shirt.

Louis leaned against the counter at the One Hour Photo, conveniently located down the block from his and Liam's place of residence, and drummed his fingers thoughtfully.

"If I thought for a second that Liam would let me keep my life, the movie poster size would absolutely be my first choice," Louis smiled at her. "As it happens, Liam is very particular about sticking to my original plan of 8"10," he explained. "And that's a life lesson for you, Millie," he sighed in regret, "never present people with specifics. They'll only end up stifling your creativity."

He pulled a tenner from his pocket to pay for the photographs and handed it to Millie.

"You'd think he'd understand what you're trying to do, though!" she fumed as she handed him his change. "If _I_ had a boyfriend I would support his art unconditionally because that's what your significant other is supposed to do! I'd dress up in costumes, I'd churn the butter for all your-," she stopped, " _his_ sculptures," she went on, "I'd go to the ends of the Earth, really.." and trailed off, looking down at the counter.

Louis had forgotten about the butter sculpture. Where had he put that? 

"Millie, Liam isn't my boyfriend," he corrected. "He is, however, completely significant," He glanced quickly at the clock on the wall, missing the way her face lit up with hope and dropped in disappointment in 2 seconds flat. "And you saw the photos! If _that_ isn't considered to be unconditional support for my art then I really don't know what is."

"Can't really pull off those clogs though, can he?" she grumbled under her breath.

"Sorry, what was that, love?" failing to hear her comment while he tried to remember if he was out of twine. He really needed to get more organized. He'd never let Liam hear him admit that though.

Millie turned a violent shade of red. "Nothing," she sighed, "maybe I'll come down and see you in action today, yeah?" 

Louis smiled. The more the merrier.

"Yeah, sure!" He grabbed the envelope of freshly printed photos off of the counter. "I've got to get going, but i'll see you later," pushing open the door with one hand, and offering a friendly wave in Millie's direction with the other.

 

\------------------------

"Liam! What happened to the butter sculpture?" Louis called out as he kicked the apartment door closed. "You know, the one with the little Amish girls?" Naturally he wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings and tripped over the vacuum cleaner that indecently blocked his path. He straightened himself and did a double take. He could have sworn he had taken that thing apart at some point, and God knew he never put it back together.

"Amish Go-Go Girls Don't Go-Go To Heaven?" Liam asked. He spared a quick glance in Louis' direction as he frantically sprayed an area of the living room carpet with cleaning solvent.

Louis nodded.

"Melted her down," Liam grunted as he began to scrub vigorously. "Had to fill the butter balloons you threw at that lobster shack."

"Ohhh right," he remembered, "capitalist scum."

"So I got the photos printed!"

Liam's reply was in the form of a low hum that might have signified disinterest to an untrained ear. 

"So do ya wanna _see_?" He dangled the envelope in front of Liam's face.

"You said minimal interaction, Lou." Setting aside his scrubbing brush, Liam sat up on his knees and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"But-" Louis tried.

"Minimal," Liam reiterated.

"You're really not going to come with me?" Louis frowned, and hoped he looked pitiful enough for Liam to agree to tag along. "You could watch from afar! When's the last time you climbed a tree?"

Liam sighed and stood up from his position on the floor. "Louis, there is no way I"m going to be anywhere within spitting distance when you're showing _those_ ," he pointed to the envelope in Louis' hands, "to anyone. That was part of the deal anyway, right? That i wouldn't have to actually come with you?"

He fixed Louis with a questioning look, and moved to walk towards the bathroom. "I can't even believe I actually agreed to any of this." 

Louis waited patiently to see if there was any more to his friend's speech. There was.

"And you know, I _told_ you we should've used regular milk to fill the milkmaid pail, Louis. I know we both agreed that the chocolate flavoring makes it a more delicious choice, but you didn't even drink any! And now those stains won't come out of the carpet!"

Louis was silent for an extra second just to be sure The Rant Of The Day was over and done.

"Liam," he stood right outside the bathroom door, and met Liam's eyes in the mirror as he washed his hands, "if this is a self-image thing? If you're nervous about not being sold for enough goats..."

Liam slammed the bathroom door in his face.

"You're beautiful, Liam! In every single way! Only _you_ can determine your own self-worth!"

"You're going to be late!" Liam's voice echoed through the closed door.

Louis would have loved to stand there all day long and bask in the blissful banter that was the foundation for his and Liam's friendship, but, unfortunately, Liam was right, and if he wanted to get to the square in time for prime pedestrian traffic, he needed to get a move on.

He raised his voice slightly, enough to make sure he was being heard loud and clear. "It might look like you've won this round, Payne, but in our final hours we'll see who tallies up the most regrets!" 

Satisfied with his parting words, Louis turned on his heel to prepare for the main event.

 

\-------------------------

It was 2:24 pm by the time Louis arrived in the town square. The Market had been set up like it had been set up _every_ Saturday since the beginning of time, and crowds of people chattered happily as they weaved their way between the eclectic selection of stands.

He was stationed in the middle of the square, right in front of the town's wishing fountain, sitting on a rectangular hay bale. A neon green sign that read "Ask Me About Beth-Ann" in big black bubble letters was propped up on his right side. The sleeves of his red and white plaid shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and one of his overall straps had been purposely left hanging, in an attempt to create an authentic, been workin' in the fields all day type feel. His steel-toed farm boots made his feet just this side of uncomfortably warm, but his wide-brimmed straw hat generously created some much appreciated shade. 

He couldn't believe he forgot the bloody cowbell.

The cowbell was how he was theoretically going to catch the attention of passersby because the farmer's outfit and the neon sign apparently couldn't do the trick. Now Louis had to resort to the next best thing. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back and at the top of his lungs, the performance began.

"OLD MACDONALD HAD A FARM! E-I-E-I-OHH! AND ON THAT FARM HE HAD SOME COWS! E-I-E-I-OHH!" 

He slapped his knee in a joyous rhythm, and tapped his foot to the beat.

"WITH A MOO MOO HERE! AND A MOO MOO THERE! HERE A MOO! THERE A MOO!  
EVERYWHERE  
A  
MOO!  
M-"

"MATE!" Louis halted his serenade, ignored the strange looks he was getting from the majority of the townspeople, and attempted to zero in on the voice that seemed to be calling out to him.

Finally, he spied 2 guys standing still, staring at him amongst the hectic bustle of the crowd. Matching amused expressions littered their faces.

And Louis had found his supporting cast.

"Hey! O'er yonder!" he drawled in the deepest Southern American accent he could muster. "Any a y'all on the lookout for a lady?"

The boys looked at each other, and cautiously began to move in Louis' direction until they stood directly in front of his hay bale.

A boy with a black swivel of a quiff for hair and flawless olive skin spoke up first. "Why? You offering yourself up as tribute?" he smirked.

Next to him his blonde friend started cackling madly.

"'Fraid not, Mister." Louis answered seriously. The first rule was to always stay in character. "But my daughter Beth-Ann is ripe for the pickin'!" He whipped out one of the colored photos that showed Liam curtseying on a bed of straw. He was decked out in a mid-calf length milkmaid dress and balancing a pail of chocolate milk on his wig covered head.

Louis was actually quite proud that they already had everything Liam needed for his milkmaid makeover in their hallway closet. Surely it was a sign that good life choices had been made.

"She's a real good girl," Louis offered, "knows how to roast a _mean_ duck, dudn't take up much space. I tell ya, she's the family's pride and joy. Yes siree," he sniffled and wiped his eyes."Sure wish it didn't have ta come ta this, but the little misses and I been tryna save up for a trampoline. 'Fraid this is the quickest way we can afford it."

The boys stared at him like he had morphed into a trigonometric equation right before their very eyes.

"So," Louis clapped his hands together once, ready to get down to business,"how many goats?"

The black-quiffed boy spoke again. "Mate, who d'you buy your drugs from?" He asked it in a sort of whisper, like he really thought Louis was about to reveal the best spots to get the _good_ shit.

"Sorry, friend, I'm not real sure what ya mean. Just wanna know how many goats you're willin' ta give for Beth-Ann's hand in holy matrimony. We're only needin' 'bout 12 to get the trampoline. Theys only gots one more in stock 'fore it's back ordered. Got it on hold for one more week. Here, why dontcha take another look?" he shoved Liam's photo into Swirly Quiff's hands, "Beth-Ann's real purty!"

And that was around the moment when a sweaty, panting Liam Payne barreled into the side of Louis' hay bale stage. Louis barely managed to not topple over.

"Lou!" Liam breathed heavily as he gasped for air. "You... For... Got...," he put a hand on Louis' shoulder, and signaled that he needed a minute. Finally, catching his breath, he slouched next to him on the hay bale and started again. "Lou, you forgot your cowbell!" 

He held up the copper bell and pushed it toward Louis. "I would've brought it sooner but I only just realized, and- oh." He stopped speaking when he noticed the 2 other people who were also listening to his story. Liam looked back at Louis and winced. "Oh. Oh no. I've ruined it, haven't I." 

Louis felt the urge to hug Liam and then cry because his best friend was actually the best person in the entire world, but his course of action was immediately intercepted.

"12 goats," Swirly Quiff replied as he grinned at Liam.

"What?" Liam said back at him.

"12 goats," he restated, "for _Beth-Ann's_ hand in marriage? Sounds pretty fair to me."

Liam looked like a tomato. And it probably wasn't all due to his recent bout of physical exertion.

"Zayn, what are you on about?" the blondie asked confusedly, his focus shifted between Swivel Quiff- Zayn and Liam as he obviously tried to figure out the details of the situation around him.

"Niall, meet 'Beth-Ann'," Zayn's finger pointed to the milkmaid picture that had remained in his hands before it was redirected at Liam himself.

Recognition slowly made it's way over the blondie- Niall's face, before he was cackling, once again.

Louis cleared his throat, "I think y'all might be confusin' thangs just a smidge. See, _Beth-Ann's_ back at the farm, and this here fella is, well, " he might have paused for a beat too long, "he's a _fella_ , ya see?" 

Louis congratulated himself on his top-notch improvisational skills.

Zayn laughed, "Oh no, I can see that he's a fella." He kept his attention trained on Liam. "Hey, when we get hitched, is it alright if you leave the wig at home? You can bring the outfit though."

Louis knew that Liam was wishing himself into an alternate universe. One where he was truly capable of not giving a shit when his best friend accidentally left his cowbell on the kitchen table.

Louis was terribly close to breaking character and bringing him some relief when a fifth voice was abruptly added to their conversation.

"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me."

Louis looked up. 

Past the brim of his hat, and the glare of the sun, stood none other than Cashier Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was just minding my own business when the Ziam appeared out of nowhere. 
> 
> I let it stay. I hope you don't mind 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	5. Sloth In The Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV

Well, it looked like Harry had crossed back over into the twilight zone.

The Customer who had crash landed into his store the previous afternoon and, regrettably, his dreams the previous night, was in front of him, yet again. This time he was casually conversing with Harry's best friends.

"Well heya there, sonny!" The Customer drawled at him in a stupid American accent. "You lookin' for a lady?"

Harry was only half listening as his eyes darted around and assessed the scene before him. He eyed the farmer's get-up, and the cowbell with confusion until his scrutiny fell to a neon sign. 

Immediately he realized that he had been given the second chance he had wished for and he wasn't about to take any more of this guy's crazy.

"Who the hell is Beth-Ann?" he demanded.

"Ah she's already taken by this one," Niall chimed in with a grin and clapped Zayn hard on the back.

Harry quirked his eyebrows, slightly sidetracked by the new information, and turned to Zayn. "I thought the only relevant, non-blood-related woman in your life is Lucia."

"There's always room for a threesome," Zayn shrugged nonchalantly as he folded up a not exactly pocket-sized piece of paper and ironically shoved it into the pocket of his jeans.

Harry turned back to The Customer. He was humming now, bouncing slightly as he sat on his - was that straw?

"Is that straw?" he questioned.

The Customer looked down at his seat and chuckled. "No sir! 'Fraid this right here is just a lowly lil' hay bale! But I tell ya what, friend, Montgomery's the only place ta go if you're lookin' for some high-quality straw! And ya best believe Mrs. Montgomery'll bake up the best darn apple crumble this side of-"

Harry had heard enough.

"Alright, so, _really_ , what's going on?" he interrupted and fixed Louis with a serious stare. "Was messing with my head at the store a one time kind of thing? Or is terrorizing the entire town a personal hobby of yours?"

The Customer frowned, and Harry definitely did not feel bad, or get on his knees to beg him to showcase his glorious (glorious!) smile.

"Wait, _this_ is the bloke that you wanted to fuck?" Niall screeched.

Harry was going to kill him.

"I beg your pardon?" The guy sitting next to The Customer on his- _lowly lil' hay bale_ stood up in a protective stance.

"Now, now fellas," The Customer stood with his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's not get ourselves in a tizzy."

"Louis," The Customer's friend pleaded with a semi-guilty look, "I'm sorry, but could we maybe just put the performance on hold for a bit? An intermission, yeah?"

It hit Harry that The Customer finally had a name. He took a second to let it ping-pong around in his brain. 

Louis.  
 _Louis._  
 _Louis._  
 **Louis.**

Harry looked on as Louis exhaled heavily and finally dropped the fake accent. "Yeah, alright." He perked up again quickly. "Ladies and gentlemen! Please use this time wisely! Visit the facilities! Replenish your snacks! Stretch those legs!" He bowed. "We will resume in 10 minutes!" 

Harry shook his head in frustrated amazement as Louis skipped away to a nearby pretzel stand.

Zayn, who was on his 3rd cigarette, took Louis' vacated spot on the hay bale. "So _is_ he the guy you wanted to fuck?"

"Could you maybe stop referring to him in such a derogatory way?" Louis' friend still stood next to them. He looked like a puppy who dreamed of being a guard dog.

"Sorry, babe," Zayn repented. His term of endearment set Louis' friend's cheeks on fire.

"Alright seriously, is he the same guy?!" Niall interrogated. 

"Yeah, he is." Harry was tired. "Different outfit though."

"Louis never wears the same outfit twice in the same series," Louis' friend explained easily.

"Series?" Harry pressed.

"Yeah, like his different displays? Today is the 3rd installation in his Improvisation Series."

"Improvi-" Harry started to inquire before he was intercepted by Zayn. 

"What's your name?"

Apparently, Zayn had some inquiries of his own.

Louis' friend stood up a little straighter at that and answered proudly, "Liam."

"Lovely to meet you, Liam. I'm Zayn. This is Niall, and that's Harry," he pointed to each of them accordingly.

"Harry?" An unmistakeable look of mental puzzle pieces falling into place crept over Liam's face.

"You're Cashier Harry!" Liam looked elated.

"Um.. maybe?" Harry replied guardedly.

Liam smiled, "so I guess you've actually witnessed Installation 2 _and_ 3, huh?." He continued, "Louis told me about how he ambushed a _curly haired cutie named Harry_ yesterday."

Zayn snorted, "well, then he can thank Louis when we never call him anything but _curly haired cutie_ for the rest of his curly haired life."

Niall snickered.

Harry was about to make an empty threat having to do with the longevity of Lucia, when Louis chose that moment to rejoin the party.

"Okay, I think it's been 10 minutes," Louis insisted. Chewing the remainder of his soft pretzel, he picked up his cowbell with determination. "And now the show must go on!"

"Actually, we have plans," Harry announced.

Zayn dropped his still lit cigarette on the ground, dangerously close to the hay bale, and stomped it out with his shoe. "We do?" 

If Harry didn't know any better, he'd think Zayn looked disappointed.

"Nick," Harry reminded him.

"Oh, right. The game." Zayn remembered flatly.

"What game?" Liam wondered.

"Football game," Zayn explained, standing up from his seat. "Less of a game, more of the four of us running around trying not to kick each other."

"Or, running around trying _to_ kick each other," Niall added. "Depends on how we're feeling, really."

"You two should come," Zayn proposed. "Join the friendly violence."

Harry wasn't really sure he wanted them to join the friendly violence. Liam seemed relatively normal, although he was friends with Louis, so only time would tell. And Louis was. Well, he was Louis.

Which, Harry realized, perhaps for the first time, didn't mean a hell of a lot. He barely knew anything _about_ Louis. But he knew that the little he had experienced so far was more than enough to convince him Louis wasn't someone you trusted with sharp objects. 

Harry watched as Liam and Louis locked eyes for a moment and seemingly made a telepathic decision.

"Sure, why not? We're always down for a little friendly football violence." Louis picked up his hay bale and his neon sign, handed his cowbell to Liam, and looked in Harry's direction. "Point the way, Cashier Harry!"

Zayn lead the way, in the end. And they all started to walk in the direction of the high school field, around the corner, where they were meeting Nick.

"Don't call me that," Harry commented with a slightly delayed complaint.

Louis looked conflicted."Why not?"

"Because it's not my name."

"Your name isn't Harry?" Louis asked and returned to his southern drawl to add, "looks like _somebody's_ name-tag needs a bit o' sprucin'."

"Yeah it's _Harry_ , not _Cashier_ Harry," he amended, accentuating the difference.

"Are you not a cashier then?" Louis gasped and clutched the hay bale tighter to his chest. "Don't tell me you were actually robbing the store when I walked in? You decided to pose as the cashier in an effort to reduce suspicion, didn't you?" He kept on, "was the actual cashier hogtied and gagged behind the counter?" He smacked himself on the forehead suddenly. "Oh, you should always. check. behind. the counter, Louis!" he groaned as he chastised _himself_ , apparently.

Harry was so far past being surprised by anything that came out of Louis' mouth, so he easily ignored the monologue. It hadn't taken long to figure out Louis' greatest pleasure in life was hearing himself talk.

Niall laughed though, good-naturedly and obviously amused. "Harry was right, you're a bit mental."

"Mental is as mental does!" Louis retorted.

Harry tried not to comment and failed. "What does that even _mean_?"

"Whatever you want it to mean, Cashier Harry," Louis replied seriously, and Harry wondered if he ever gave it a rest.

"Well, it's about fuckin' time!"

The group of five had just arrived at the high school field where Nick leaned against the field's fence.

Harry watched as Louis removed his hat and threw it against the fence. His hay bale, neon sign, and cowbell, that he tugged from Liam's helpful hands, were soon to follow. 

Nick stared at the strange pile of objects, raising his eyebrows in a silent request for some details.

"Sorry, Nick. Found a couple more players along the way," Zayn explained. 

"Stop at the farm, did you?" Nick quipped.

Nobody laughed.

Zayn continued his introductions,. "Guys, this is Nick. Nick, this is Liam and Louis."

Nick offered routine head nods in each of their directions before doing a double take and examining Louis. 

"Hey, aren't you that bloke who painted his face brown and sat outside the deli on Riverside?"

Louis' eyes widened. "You're the one who always dropped pennies in my tea!" he accused.

"Pennies, mate?" Zayn asked warily. 

"I thought he was begging for money," Nick said in defense.

"So you gave him pennies?" Zayn continued to look unimpressed.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" Nick challenged. 

"Bit cheap, is all" Zayn looked at Niall and wrinkled his nose. 

"Sorta stingy," Niall nodded in agreement.

"Well, I wasn't about to hand over my wallet to the homeless, was I?" Nick huffed.

Harry heard Liam inhale sharply, and noticed when he laid a discreet hand on Louis' arm. 

"I was not-- _am_ not _homeless_. And I was not begging for money!" Louis said, affronted. "I was forcing you to think!" He looked at Nick expectantly and sighed when Nick's face remained blank. "You know, it was 'performance art'?" he supplied. Still nothing. "I was 'Sloth In The Sun'! Part of my _7 Deadly Sins On Vacation_ series?" He tried again. "I sat there for _'7 Deadly Days'_! Didn't you read the plaque?!"

Nick looked around uncomfortably. "Mate, you were lying on the ground. Thought you were napping, to be honest."

"Napping?!" Louis replied incredulously. "Napping." He repeated himself and looked toward Liam in disbelief. "Well that is just great. That is just _perfect_." Louis threw his hands in the air, defeated.

Harry wasn't exactly sure why he felt the need to say anything. Louis' obnoxious "installations" had been the bane of his existence since yesterday and he had absolutely no reason to defend them. But as he witnessed Louis in his state of obvious distress, Harry felt an inexplicable urge to make him smile.

"Alright, hold on a minute," Harry started out strong. "Sloths, yeah? Sloths nap all of the time! They're uh, they're sloths, right? They're slow and, you know, I'm sure they've napped in the sun. They probably like the warmth. Occasionally. And the vitamin D..." He trailed off.

Zayn looked at him like he'd be more than willing to drive Harry to the nearest loony bin.

Harry couldn't say that he wouldn't be willing to accept the ride.

Louis and Liam just stared at him before Louis broke out into an enormously bright smile. And oh, yeah! _That_ was why he just made himself sound like an idiot. He remembered. 

Niall punched him lightly on the shoulder with a, "too true, Harry, too true."

"Okay, so sloths like the sun, and you," Nick looked to Louis, "aren't homeless. Good talk." He leaned down and retrieved his football off the ground. "So are you ladies ready to play some football?"

\-----------

Louis was exceptionally good at football.

Everyone except Liam, who was already informed, was surprised to learn that little tidbit. But no one was more surprised than Nick.

Harry found it hilarious, actually.

Nick had taunted Louis with a ' _come and get it Farmer Boy'_ and clucked like a chicken, right before Louis stole the ball away from him and scored a goal on the other side of the field. By the time Nick even realized the ball was out of his possession, Louis was already howling in victory and square dancing with Niall.

"Nice shot, Old MacDonald!" Zayn called from where he sat on the ground with an arm slung around Liam. They were supposed to be dividing themselves up into teams, but it seemed like Zayn and Liam were a little preoccupied with their quiet mating ritual on the sidelines.

"So, I think our children have taken to each other." 

Harry jumped as Louis materialized at his side. 

"What?" 

Honestly it was like Louis wasn't happy until someone was confused.

"Our children," he pointed at Liam and Zayn, "seem to have taken to each other. Shall we arrange a playdate? Zayn could come over to the house one afternoon. It would be lovely. He could stay for lunch and you could pick him up in the early evening."

That was the moment Harry realized that in order to get through to Louis you had to speak Louis' language.

"Well that sounds brill, Louis! But I'm afraid we only let Zayn play with the children who's parents keep airplane fuel on hand at all times. You never know when you'll need to jet off to Antigua, and these things really can't be left to chance. Not when there's children involved."

Louis looked positively cheerful.

"Why, Cashier Harry. Color me impressed!"

Harry scoffed, "I'm not here to impress you."

Louis' face fell. 

"Harry, why are you so upset?"

Harry should've ignored him. He should've pretended like it was all fine.

"You made a fool of me." He tried not to whine, but he couldn't be sure it worked.

"Oh come on-" Louis began.

"I know it's stupid, alright? I just," Harry tried to organize his thoughts, "I don't know. I don't know why it bothered me so much. It just did." 

_Well those sure were some awfully eloquent, organized thoughts there,_ he thought to himself.

"It just did." Louis repeated his words like he was trying to get used to them.

"Yeah." Harry didn't really know what else to say.

It seemed to be enough for Louis, though. He nodded his head, reached into the pocket of his overalls, and pulled out a packet of gum.

"Do you want to stick gum in my hair?" pushing a cube of watermelon flavored Bubbalicious in Harry's direction.

Harry shook his head, unsurprised by the offer. "No, I like your hair. I don't really want to ruin it."

Harry didn't look up. He didn't need to see Louis' reaction to his admission.

It was quiet for just a second too long before, "my shins, then!" Louis exclaimed, laughter bubbling from his chest. "Do you want to kick me in the shins?"

Harry looked up. He was laughing now, too. Louis was more than ridiculous. "Kind of, but I won't."

Louis stopped laughing, but he never stopped smiling as he cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes."Do you want to be my friend, Cashier Harry?"

Harry sighed. Did he want to be Louis' _friend_?

"What'd you think of Mean Girls 2?" Harry asked smoothly.

Louis threw himself down onto the field beneath them and started rolling around frantically. "Don't you dare talk about that abomination in my presence! I rescind the offer for friendship." He stopped rolling and pointed at Harry. "RESCIND!" he repeated.

Harry rolled his eyes and plopped down next to Louis on the ground. In the distance, Niall and Nick had given up any hopes of an actual game ever being played, and Zayn and Liam were halfway to ordering a U-haul. And next to him, on the astroturf, was a human caramel frappuccino boy who desperately needed a straitjacket.

"Yeah, I'll be your friend."

Maybe Harry needed a straitjacket, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! I am so happy this chapter is done with. I had a bad case of writer's block for awhile there. 
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading! Hope you're enjoying. and there's more to come soon :)


	6. Pizza Boys Don't Drive Hearses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Liam's pov and it was pretty fun to write. Hope you enjoy!

The sun had just started to set by the time Liam knew he was head over heels for Zayn. 

Their plan to play football rapidly turned into a couple of hours of not really doing anything but sitting on the field and staring at Zayn's eyelashes.

Well, that's how _Liam_ had spent a couple of hours, anyway. 

Strangely, they mostly talked about music. It wasn't exactly Liam's area of expertise, but he thought he could listen to Zayn list his favorite artists for hours on end. 

It wasn't long before Zayn had sighed and said, " _wish I had my ipod so you could listen to it_ ", before breaking out into a velvety melody that left Liam in need of an oxygen tank. 

And that was _before_ he swung an arm around Liam's waist, laughing into his shoulder when Louis started catcalling at them like a barbarian.

When they left the field it was without Nick, who headed in the opposite direction to walk back to his nearby house. Liam hadn't especially liked the way Nick had mocked Louis, but really, it wasn't realistic for Louis to expect no negative commentary on his art. It took Liam a while to understand it himself, and to be honest, he still didn't get most of it. But Louis was his best friend and Liam did what he could to support him. Plus, it wasn't as if Louis would ever give him a genuine choice to remain uninvolved.

The five of them started to walk back towards the town square where they had met earlier that day. Harry was wearing Louis' floppy farmer hat, ringing the cowbell in Louis' face, while Louis attempted to shield himself from the 'attack' with his 'hay bale of steel'. They seemed to be in their own little world, which was interesting.

Zayn walked next to him, smiling in his direction occasionally, giving Niall a piggyback ride while Niall waved Louis' neon sign, the one that begged strangers to ask after photos of Liam in a milkmaid dress, in the air like a flag.

"You guys need a ride home?" Zayn offered as they approached the square.

They didn't live far away. It was close enough to walk to. It was even close enough for Liam to sprint from when he had made the rash decision to deliver Louis' cowbell to him that afternoon, despite having absolutely no intentions of going anywhere near the scene.

Liam was beginning to think it was the best decision he'd made in a long time, though.

"Sure!" Liam answered eagerly. 

Maybe it was a little _too_ eager? Shit. It was probably a little too eager.

Liam realized he hadn't consulted Louis when he had accepted the ride for both of them, but it wasn't as if it was such a chore to be chauffeured around town. Louis loved to be driven around, and since neither of them had cars, getting a ride somewhere was a rare privilege that could've made a broken down Honda seem like a stretch limousine. 

They arrived at the square to find that the Market had been mostly packed away. Collapsible stands stored in the backs of vans, and vendors throwing away unsightly, but most likely still edible, day old snacks.

"That's inhumane is what that is!" Niall spat and pointed to a woman who picked up a squashed loaf of pumpernickel, flinging it into a garbage bag like it was the winning shot at a championship game.

"It's okay, Niall, just walk away." Harry soothed.

"Just get _carried_ away, is what I think you mean," Zayn reminded him, still bearing the weight of Niall and his disappointment in the human race's tendency to waste perfectly good food.

They kept on for a while, the leaves crunching under Liam's feet, when all of a sudden, Zayn let Niall carefully slip off his back and paused in front of a huge, gleaming, black... hearse? 

And ok, it wasn't exactly a stretch limousine.

Zayn pulled out his keys.

" _This_ is your car?" Liam might've looked slightly shocked.

He felt the urge to apologize when a somewhat offended look fluttered across Niall's face.

"Yeah. Does it creep you out?" Zayn looked somewhat hurt as well.

Liam was such an idiot. 

"No! Not at all! Death is a natural part of life! Right? I mean, everybody dies. We shouldn't be afraid of it, or the automobile it warrants! It's a really cool car!" Liam looked it over once more and finished with, "It's shiny."

A few steps away, Louis covered his face with his hand and shook his head at the ground.

Zayn appeared to be delighted, though, with a big smile on his face, so Liam thought he might be able to recover from the embarrassment brought on by his verbal diarrhea.

"Liam can sit in the front." Niall waggled his eyebrows.

"Oh no, no, you can sit in the front! It's fine," Liam insisted.

Harry laughed, "trust us, Niall will be just fine sitting in the back."

Liam watched as Harry took the neon sign from Niall, opened the hearse's back door, and took a step to the side. A blur of blonde hair and a shouted ' _YAHOOO!!_ ' was all he could see and hear as Niall dove headfirst into the back of the car.

Louis savagely smacked Liam's ass as he walked past him to hop into the back, ahead of Harry, lugging his hay bale in with him.

When he turned to get into the car, Zayn was holding the passenger side door open as he waited for Liam to slide in and gently closed the door behind him.

Zayn was a gentleman in the middle of Bedlam, Liam swore it.

\-----------------

"So why do you have a hearse anyway?" Liam asked.

They had been driving around a bit aimlessly in a silent decision that the night was not yet over.

"If you don't call her by her first name Zayn won't be your friend anymore," Harry called from the back.

Liam's eyes fell to Zayn and his hands that wrapped firmly around the steering wheel. "What's her first name?"

"Lucia." Zayn announced. His expression was reminiscent of a proud father.

"That's pretty."

"D'you hear that, baby? Liam's sending compliments." He slowly stroked the steering wheel, and it was a sad day, Liam thought, when a man couldn't even touch a damn steering wheel without being perved on by a guy he met less than 8 hours ago.

He needed to just ask some normal questions, get to know Zayn a little more, get his mind off of what else those fingers could do besides drive a car.

Or a hearse.

Whatever.

"So, how did _Lucia_ end up as your vehicle of choice, then?

"I'd like to think she chose me." Zayn added, "I got her from work."

"From work," Liam repeated."So you must work at a-"

"Funeral home," Zayn finished.

"Funeral home," Liam parroted.

Of _course_ Zayn worked at a funeral home. It wasn't like _pizza boys_ drove hearses.

Well, then again, Liam didn't really like to generalize. Perhaps there _was_ a hearse-driving pizza boy somewhere in the world. 

"Yup. Family business," Zayn explained.

Liam almost gave himself whiplash with how quickly he swung around to find Louis' face through the partition window. Louis just stared at him sheepishly and said nothing.

And no, no, no, this wasn't happening.

"Um, what did you say your last name was again?" Liam asked the question, but he feared he already knew the answer.

Zayn smiled, "I don't know if I actually said it at all, but it's Malik."

And, yes welcome to Liam's life. 

Louis' voice suddenly echoed through his mind; flippant comments from the night before.

_"And the joke's on them, isn't it?"_

No, _Louis_ , the joke, it _seemed_ , was on _them_. On _Liam_ if you cared to get specific.

Liam was going to kill him. Liam was going to do more than kill him, actually. Liam was going to kill him, dig him up, (probably apologize and try to talk things out before remembering why he was so angry in the first place) and then kill him again.

"Malik, huh? So I suppose your family probably doesn't own _Zeppetelli's_ Funeral Home, then?" Liam laughed weakly as he named the only other funeral parlor in town. "With your last name _not_ being Zeppetelli, I mean."

"Uh... no, mate, the Zeppetelli's are the Italians on the other side of town. We're the Malik's, over at _Malik Funeral Arrangements_." 

Liam could tell he tried to say it in the least condescending way possible because Zayn was a perfect person. Perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect, beautiful, honey glazed eyes..

And if Zayn realized who he was Liam was never going to get to see him again.

"Oh. well, that's nice," He smiled tightly. "So, uh, you can just drop me and Louis off right here. Thanks so much for the ride, let's do it again soon, okay? Maybe next time Louis'll tone down the dramatics. No promises though! haha." Liam forced a pitiful laugh. "Okay. Bye," and attempted to open the car door.

"Liam!" Louis cried out.

Liam froze and without turning around whispered, "yes?"

"The car is still moving." Harry pointed out.

"Also. What is wrong with you!?" Niall sounded very confused.

And damn it all to hell. Damn Louis and his need to make everything a production. Damn himself for not running at top speed in the other direction when he realized Louis wasn't _actually_ blind and didn't _really_ need his help unzipping his trousers in the loo on the first day of Year 9 like he had claimed. And lastly, damn his mother for raising him to believe that honesty was honestly the best policy.

"We're banned." Liam decided to just say it quickly, like ripping off a plaster.

"You're-"

"Banned," Liam verified. He turned away from the window,"from your funeral home," he leaned his head against the headrest, "by your father."

"You-- That was you?!" Zayn looked flabbergasted. That was the only word Liam could think of to describe it.

"Who was who?" Niall poked his face through the small partition window between Liam and Zayn.

"You!" Zayn pulled the hearse over to the side of the road and shifted in his seat to set his gaze on Liam. "You guys are the ones that pretended to be John Does in the morgue! They were set to bury you!"

"How did you know that was us?" Liam furrowed his eyebrows, perplexed.

Zayn's forehead wrinkled in confusion. 

Fabulous! Liam was going to give him premature wrinkles. One more thing to be sorry for.

"Liam," Zayn said carefully, "you literally just told me that you were banned from the funeral home."

"No- i mean yes, i know. But how did you know what we did? How could you tell the difference between us and the other people?"

"The other people?" he asked tonelessly.

"Yes!" Liam said, exasperated by the entire conversation.

"You mean the flocks of _other people_ that have been banned from my family's funeral home?"

"Zayn," Liam pleaded. Liam really couldn't understand why Zayn couldn't answer a simple question. 

"OW! Hey! Watch it!" Niall's head disappeared as he was yanked from the partition window. 

Louis' head took his place. 

"Li, I think we're the only people who've ever actually been banned from their funeral home," he spelled it out in an obvious effort to prevent Liam from humiliating himself any further.

Which he appreciated. Louis really _was_ a good friend, when he wasn't driving Liam to drink.

"Oh." Liam thought that was a nice way to end the conversation.

"Hey! ow! Harry! My father will hear about _this_ "

 _Louis_ was disappearing then and it was Harry's head that took up residence in the partition window next. The front seat of the hearse was clearly the hottest spot for some live entertainment.

"Why would you lay in the morgue by _choice_? Are you fucking crazy? I know _he's_ fucking crazy," indicating Louis with a nod of his head, as Louis cried out "I RESENT THAT!"

And Harry finished, "but are you actually fucking _crazy_?"

"Harry hates the funeral home," Zayn clarified. "He used to work there but he hasn't stepped foot inside since the day he accidentally walked in on an embalming." 

Harry pointed an angry finger, "man, I thought it was the supply closet! Your mom asked me to get a mop and I got lifeless eyes and a drain filled with bodily fluids!" 

Zayn pinched Harry's cheeks with both hands. "Death is a natural part of life, Harry. Just ask Liam."

"Oh, get off me," pulling his face back as he disappeaed into the depths of the hearse.

"So my dad banned you from the family funeral home." Zayn hummed, considering," Guess I can't take you home to meet the parents then."

Liam's eyes widened, his cheeks burned.

Zayn laughed for almost a minute straight. 

"You-- You're not angry?" Was Liam really this lucky?

"You're lucky I like the bad boys, Liam," he winked and turned the keys in the ignition.

Liam was speechless. He was speechless and he was not ashamed. 

Zayn smirked knowingly, the little shit. 

"So where are we dropping you guys off?" Zayn asked.

"Um," Liam cleared his throat, "we live right by the One Hour Photo on Relic Road."

"That close? You lazy biddies couldn't have walked back?" Zayn joked.

"Hey you offered!" Liam argued happily.

Zayn chuckled, "That, I did, Liam. That, I did."

Liam never thought he'd wish to spend more time in a hearse, or _any_ time, really, but he didn't think anyone would blame him if they met the boy in the driver's seat.

They drove along in companionable silence for a few minutes. Liam glanced back and saw Louis resting his head on Harry's shoulder with his legs propped up on Niall's lap.

"So, I was thinking," Zayn began, causing Liam to swing back to his direction. He sounded nervous and honestly that sounded good to Liam. He was sick of being the awkward one.

Liam didn't want him to feel too awkward though, so he smiled reassuringly."Yeah?"

"Uh, I was thinking that maybe we could--"

Liam stopped listening as Zayn turned onto his and Louis' street. Liam sat up straight as a rod and gripped the dashboard. 

"Louis." Louis wasn't being quick enough. "LOUIS!" he yelled.

Louis stuck his head through the partition window and stared at Liam, annoyed.

"JEE-SUS! WHAT?! what's the-." 

He stopped, speechless, as he peered out through the windshield and tightly grasped Liam's shoulder.

"Oh my God."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in writing fanfiction, I've found that cliffhangers are a lot more fun when you're the one who's safely on the ground!
> 
> More to come soon!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading :)


	7. Mr. Livingston

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Livingston's POV (not for too long) /Louis' POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Out of nowhere I was expected to actually live life or something, so.

Percy Livingston awoke rather late that Saturday morning.

He'd had terrible trouble sleeping the night before, and rose with a crick in his back and a peculiar pain in his chest.

He thought that perhaps he'd take a warm bath. His wife Polly would have made him take a warm bath if she'd been there.

Polly would have drew his bath and brought him tea as well. She would have poured extra bubbles in the tub and then stayed for a chat, because she knew he always liked a chat during a warm bath.

They might have spoken about the children. Whether the two of them should fly out, or have the family come to theirs for the holidays. Polly would've made some quip about never getting diamonds, like she did every year, and he would reply with his usual, _"no need for diamonds when you have me, love."_ Polly would laugh, but the twinkle of longing in her eyes would have him hoping it would finally be the year he could afford those earrings she always hinted at whenever they strolled past the shops.

After Polly passed away he spent too much time being haunted by the thought of those earrings. He never did get to buy them, and was sure it was destined to stand as his biggest regret.

The guilt had almost eaten him alive. Polly had deserved _everything_ , and he felt like he hadn't done enough to show her how much he truly appreciated her.

It was almost 6 months after her death when he found the note. He had been searching for the spare light bulbs in the very back of the bedroom closet when he came across the Christmas presents Polly had hidden before she died. He knew the presents were there; Polly had hidden them in the same spot every Christmas for the past 46 years, it was the reason he had been avoiding that closet for some time. But he never expected to find the note that was resting on top of the unopened gifts. The stationary was unmistakeably Polly's, with it's soft pink color, and floral-patterned trim. And he felt as though he was floating off the ground when he realized it was a letter meant for him.

It wasn't a very long letter, but he savored every word. And as he read the last line, the last line of the last letter his beloved would ever write him, he smiled.

_I wouldn't trade our life together for all the diamonds in the world. You are my love, my light, my everything._

 

_All my love,_

 

_Polly_

 

So, Percy Livingston awoke rather late that Saturday morning, with a crick in his back and a peculiar pain in his chest, and he drew himself a bath. He left the water running as he slipped in, and he poured extra bubbles in the tub as he listened to the sound of a muffled voice coming from the apartment below.

He sank a bit deeper into the soothing water and leaned his head back against the tub's edge.

The muffled voice from before became louder as he began to feel very strange.

_"in our final hours we'll see who tallies up the most regrets!"_

And as Percy Livingston closed his eyes for the very last time, he could not be sure who would tally up the most regrets. But as his final hour came to a close, he was quite certain it would not be him.

\-------------------

The first thing Louis saw, after Liam had screamed his name like a lunatic, were the lights. Flashing red and blue lights, washing over the faces of uniformed men. The second thing Louis saw was the fire engine. He then realized, as Zayn continued down the street in search of a spot to pull over, the fire engine had been blocking his view of the ambulance and coroner van.

So far, so good.

"Jesus, Mary, an' Joseph," Niall quietly exclaimed as he and Harry gawked at the scene from behind the hearse's curtained windows.

Zayn finally pulled over, just ahead of the eye of the chaos, and turned to Liam.

"What should we do?"

"Um. We have to go out there and see what's going on, right? We should probably talk to someone and find out what's going on," Liam rambled nervously.

Louis watched silently as Zayn placed a hand on Liam's knee, causing Liam to visibly relax.

They were all completely silent, thinking of what do do next, when there was a forceful knock on the window. Zayn jumped, but realizing it was a police officer, promptly rolled the window down.

The officer leaned down to Zayn's level. "I don't know who called the funeral home, but I don't think they're quite ready for you boys, yet."

Zayn looked a bit confused, but must've remembered the vehicle he was driving. 

"Oh! no, I was just dropping off my friends. They live in the building."

"Right. Well funny coincidence, that," the officer said slowly.

He looked a bit wary, as if the local hooligans regularly drove hearses to crime scenes in an attempt to steal bodies, and he wasn't going to let it happen on his watch.

Liam leaned over towards the driver's seat. "Officer, can you tell us what's happened?"

"Can't release that sort of information to the public at the moment, I'm afraid."

"But. But we live here!" Liam said incredulously. 

"So sorry," the officer replied, not sounding very sorry at all. "But cheer up! Just stay where you are and I'm sure it won't be too long of a wait before we have you back inside."

Zayn looked at Liam with questioning eyebrows before turning back to the window. "Alright, thank you, officer."

They sat in silence once again, Zayn and Liam remained in their brainstorming bubble, and Louis left his place at the partition window to find Niall and Harry still gazing through the glass. 

"Okay," Louis announced, sick of waiting around, "I'm going to see what there is to see."

"Louis, maybe you shouldn't. He told us to wait here, and-" Louis didn't hear the end of Liam's concerns as he pushed open the back door and hopped out into the night.

He heard footsteps behind him and knew Liam had given into his curiosity as well.

Louis surveyed the area, and found it seemed the same as it had from inside the car, only louder. Thankfully, he soon spotted a familiar face.

"Millie!"

She heard him right away and waved him over eagerly. Louis swiftly made his way over to where she stood, with Liam following silently.

"Hey, Millie, what's going on?" 

Millie frowned, "Mr. Livingston died!"

Louis' eyes widened. "What?! He did?!" He paused, "wait, who's Mr. Livingston?"

Liam elbowed him in his side. A little too hard if he was honest, the animal.

"Ow! What?! Do _you_ know who he is?" he asked Liam, already knowing that he and this _Mr. Livingston_ were unacquainted. 

Liam fixed him with a withering stare that Louis knew translated to _have a little more respect for the dead man we never ever met, please._

He chose to ignore him and turned his attention back to Millie and her useful information.

"He lived in your building, he was really nice," she sniffled. "He came to the shop to have some old photos restored once, and he always waved whenever he passed by. They're saying he had a heart attack! I heard the coroner say it!"

Millie's lower lip began to tremble.

"Oh, Millie, it's okay." He pulled her into a one-armed hug and rubbed her shoulder gently.

Millie leaned into him and exhaled deeply, "I looked for you in the square today. I couldn't find you _anywhere_. I hope you didn't have to cancel the performance," Millie looked up at him, sincerely worried.

"Not at all. We just left a little earlier than expected," Louis explained with his arm still slung around her.

Millie rubbed her eyes and whispered, "we?"

"Hey, so what's going on?" Harry asked as he appeared at Louis' side with Niall and Zayn in tow.

Louis pulled away from Millie with a final comforting squeeze to her shoulder.

"Our neighbor died. Heart attack, supposedly. Everything should be fine, though. Ya know, for everyone except Mr. Livingston," Louis whispered Mr. Livingston's name, not wanting to upset Millie any further.

"So this is all for one man?" Niall looked around in disbelief.

"He was a nice person!" Millie insisted angrily.

Niall put his hands up in surrender, attempting to avoid the full force of Millie's wrath. "I'm sure he was great. Who are you?"

"I'm Millie," she declared, flipping her hair, "I've known Louis for ages."

Niall looked amused."Ages, eh?" 

"Yes! Why?" she interrogated. 

"No reason, Millie." Niall winked and turned to Louis, "she's cute."

Millie turned beet red, and opened her mouth to say something, when a voice rang through the crowd.

"Liam Payne?!" The voice belonged to a freakishly tall officer standing a few paces away."Lewis Tomlinson!? Is there a Liam Payne or a Lewis To-," 

"Yes! Yes! Right here, sir!" Liam rushed forward to greet the officer, glancing back at Louis to make sure he was following.

"Apartment 4B?"

"Yes! That's us. Liam Payne and _Louis_ Tomlinson," Liam verified, politely correcting the officer's mispronunciation of Louis' name, and effectively slamming Louis' passive aggressive comment window shut.

Oh well. He was sure there would be other chances.

"Hello, I'm officer Wallace. Did either of you know Mr. Livingston?"

"No. We didn't." A genuine look of regret crossed Liam's face. "We're hearing lovely things about him now, though!" He couldn't have been more sincere, and Louis noticed a steely determination in his eyes. As though Liam planned to knock on every door in their building that very night, bearing freshly baked cookies, as to make sure no more of their neighbors passed on without Liam having first sent them off with baked goods and a smile.

Louis was definitely not _happy_ to hear about Mr. Livingston's inevitable demise. But how upset was he expected to be when he hadn't known the man, and wasn't fortunate enough to be blessed with Liam's angelic soul? He was honestly just happy that everything else was okay and they could all go home tonight safe and sound. 

"Would you boys follow me please?" Officer Wallace instructed.

Maybe he and Liam would say a prayer.

He was never big on religious rituals, except that week two years ago when he'd moved to the park around the corner and tried to live as a monk, but a brief moment of silence to honor their dearly departed neighbor?

Louis smiled to himself.

Yeah, that's what they'd do, they'd say a prayer.

A special prayer just for Mr. Livingston.

 

\------------------

" _Fucking, Livingston._ " 

Of course Liam heard Louis' mumbled words and elbowed him hard in his side. 

Again.

"So they'll need the week to assess the damage."

Louis stood next to Liam just inside the doorway of their apartment, listening to Officer Wallace talk about pretty much everything _besides_ the reason _"your apartment is ruined"_ wasn't the first thing to come out of his mouth after Liam had confirmed their identities.

It seemed that Mr. Livingston had left the water running while taking a soak in his own filth, and the grim reaper had come a knockin' before he had a chance to turn it off. That very same water was now an unwelcome guest in his and Liam's apartment, after it poured through just about every light fixture and air vent available.

"After the assessment is complete, provided the residence is inhabitable, we'll give you a more accurate time frame as to when you can move back in."

"I'm sorry, _provided_ it's inhabitable?" Liam questioned, uneasily.

"Yes. If the water damage is too significant they may have to rebuild. Dry wall really doesn't do well when wet, the structural integrity may be ruined beyond repair, and the potential mold growth is--"

Louis stopped listening. He knew he needed to know the details, but at the moment nothing could be heard over the insistent voice in his head screaming, _where the hell are we supposed to go?!_

Louis let the voice say it's piece. "Where the hell are we supposed to go?" 

Liam, for once, didn't elbow him, or scold him for being rude to an official. Instead he stood next to Louis, eyes glued to Officer Wallace's face like he was hoping the officer had maybe planned on hosting a week-long flood victim slumber party at his countryside villa. 

Or maybe Louis was projecting; he did that sometimes.

Officer Wallace frowned,"I really couldn't tell you, boys." 

So the countryside was obviously out.

"Could you stay with your families? Maybe a friend has a couch they can spare?"

And thank you, Officer No Fucking Help At All. 

Neither Louis' nor Liam's families lived close enough to help them on such short notice, and the only friend's couch they had to speak of was the one they co-owned, the one that sat in the middle of their dampened living room, almost entirely soaked with brownish-yellow water.

This was bad.

"Hey guys is everything o- oh shit." Harry stood wide-eyed in the doorway.

With Harry's reaction to the scene, the entire situation became too much for Louis to handle. 

And so, he started to panic. 

And when Louis panicked, he got a little... expressive.

"Yes, Harry. 'Oh, Shit,' indeed. Wonderful assessment! Did you hear that, Officer Wallace!? No need to assess! Cashier Harry's got it covered! Give him a badge!"

Louis wasn't even finished with his rant when he found himself being pulled out of the doorway. Harry marched him down the hall, threw open a door, and finally stopped when they reached the stairwell. 

For the most part, Louis went with him willingly, and immediately sank down onto the stairs. Harry stood with his hands in his pockets, a blank expression on his face, as Louis leaned his head against the wall.

"Yes I know, I'm _'fucking crazy'_ , okay? But Officer Shit For Brains just informed us that we can't live in our apartment for at least a week, probably longer. And he's not even sure we'll get to move back in after that!"

Harry's face softened, "that's terrible, Louis," he looked like he was trying to tread carefully, "but how is that Officer Shit For Brains' fault?"

Louis gave him points for keeping the officer's unofficial title intact.

"It's not," Louis relented. "You're right, Harry. It's absolutely _not_ his fault. It's Mr. Livingston's fault!" He pointed a disgruntled finger to the ceiling. "Kept the damn water running all bloody day! Do you have any idea how detrimental that is to the environment? Water conservation is a serious issue, Harry! And it is steadfastly being ignored!" He picked at the peeling paint on the wall and muttered, "he should be arrested."

"Well, he's dead, but I'm sure they'll get him next time."

Louis looked up at that. A small smile was playing at the corner of Harry's lips.

 _Pink_ lips, his inappropriately timed libido observed. His _really_ pink lips. Louis shook his head and tried to focus.

He took in his surroundings. The cobweb in the corner, the dirty black and white tiled floor. 

He also took in the fact that he had left Liam all alone in a crisis.

"Okay, so maybe I need to calm down."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "you think?"

"Oh, please. We're all allowed an immature rant every once in a waterlogged apartment." Louis stood up and brushed the seat of his overalls.

"Your little speech back there reminded me of when you barged into Gilligan's, carrying on about your football-playing gran."

"What, you mean yesterday? Oh yes, it is quite fun to reminisce about the golden years, isn't it?"

Harry snorted. " _Feels_ like it was a lifetime ago, you're sort of a lot to handle, d'you know that?"

"Harry, if you can't handle me at my worst... well, then too bad," Louis grinned as Harry rolled his eyes.

"You look ridiculous in that outfit, by the way," Harry expressed as he reached out and adjusted Louis' intentionally strewn overall strap.

Louis didn't even feel the need to tell him he was ruining the authentic farmer charm of the ensemble.

"You liked the hat well enough," Louis teased.

"I did _not_ ," Harry refuted.

Louis tilted his head, thoroughly unconvinced. "Then why are you still wearing it?"

"I'm-" Harry reached up to feel his head.

Louis grinned triumphantly.

"I forgot it was there! I guess I got used to the feeling or something." Harry looked like he felt guilty for still having the hat in his possession, as if he had stolen it.

"Not to worry, Cashier Harry," Louis linked arms with him and opened the door to the stairwell,"it looks dashing."

They found Liam standing outside the apartment door with Zayn and Niall as they made their way back down the hallway.

"Good thing _this_ happened, yeah? Today was getting a bit boring," Zayn joked as he apparently tried to comfort Liam.

Maybe there was a reason Zayn worked with the dead. It wasn't like corpses required many pep talks. 

"Hey, sorry for the temporary moment of insanity, Li. I'm back now. Reporting for BFF duty! So, what's the plan? Should we get a hotel? As long as neither of us are pregnant with the Lamb of God, I'm sure there will be room at the inn."

"Actually, Zayn's asked us to stay with him," Liam said carefully.

Louis looked at Zayn and, just as carefully, asked, "You have?"

"Uh, yeah." Zayn rubbed at the back of his neck. "I know we met you like... today. But you guys are cool, and you don't strike us as axe murderers or anything."

"You don't even have any axes in the house," Niall pointed out.

Louis waved him off. "That's okay, Niall. When an axe murderer comes to kill you they bring their own axe. It's common courtesy."

Zayn grinned challengingly, "okay so we'll search your bags at the front door."

Louis hummed, "see that's no good, Zayn. One of us will surely sneak out in the middle of the night. We'll buy a brand new axe and come back to smash you to bits."

"I'll have Harry guard the door, then." Zayn seemed satisfied with his quick thinking.

"Why do _I_ have to guard the door?" Harry wondered, mystified.

"Why would Harry be there?" Louis asked, but was ignored when Harry interjected.

"Why can't _Zayn_ guard the door while _I_ get to sleep?"

Niall shook his head, "if you go to sleep you'll be the one that gets smashed to bits."

"Not if Zayn's guarding the door," Harry argued.

"This is all irrelevant because in the end Liam and I will have killed you both," Louis reasoned, looking at Liam who nodded his head in agreement."And why would Harry be there?" he repeated.

"He lives with me," Zayn informed. 

Louis turned to Harry, "You do."

"Yes, I do."

Louis smiled, "and how do _you_ feel about opening your home to a pair of axe murderers?"

Harry appeared to be deep in thought. "Well it depends."

"On what?" Louis asked. Liam looked interested in his answer as well. 

"Do the axe murderers like Mean Girls 2?"

Louis rolled his eyes, "of course not, Harry. They're axe murderers, not morons."

\----------------

"So, I guess you guys can just-" Zayn trailed off, and motioned to the living room where there was a couch, a loveseat, and what looked to be a reasonably comfortable floor. All of which were thankfully, wonderfully, wondrously dry, and showed absolutely no signs of "potential mold growth".

"It's beautiful." Louis collapsed horizontally on the loveseat and closed his eyes.

"Where should we put our bags?" Liam asked.

Louis opened his eyes just in time to see Zayn pick up the two bags they had brought, before dropping them again less than a foot from where they had originally been. "Right there is fine."

The bags they had packed only contained enough clothes for the week, as they were only allowed about 15 minutes to collect their things. They found that the bedrooms had been mostly untouched by the water; with the bathroom, living room, and kitchen bearing the brunt of the damage. Louis had wasted approximately six and a half minutes trying to decide if he _really_ needed to bring his miniature Madame Alexander Wizard of Oz collectible dolls. Liam, on the other hand, struggled with deciding on the proper pajama attire for staying in someone else's house. They got their priorities straightened, though. Liam was able to successfully pick out the perfect mixture of shorts, t shirts, and sweatpants; and Louis gently kissed his collection of dolls goodbye as he placed them in his bag atop his haphazardly arranged clothes. The remainder of their belongings had to stay behind, but the water had stopped pouring in, so what was undamaged would stay undamaged. Unless, of course, Mr.Livingston's ghost returned and decided to take another bath.

"Who's hungry?" Niall inquired on his way to the kitchen. 

Harry called out, "we don't have any food, Niall."

"Sure you do, look!" Niall stood in the kitchen doorway and held up a box of uncooked pasta.

"Niall, that's not food, that's manual labor," Zayn revised and took a seat on the couch.

"Well I'll make it. You gotta put it in water, right?" Niall asked, mostly himself, as he tried to pry open the cardboard box.

"I'll make it," Liam offered.

Louis pumped his fist in the air and sat up quickly. "Yes! Liam is a master chef!"

Liam, as usual, downplayed his abilities. "No, I'm really not, but I-"

"Liam, please, don't be modest. Zayn, my friend, do you have a few eons? Let me tell you what this man can do with a can of tuna."

Liam snorted, "I think _you'd_ find more uses for the actual _can_ of tuna, Lou."

Louis looked at him in shock. "You said you'd agree to disagree!"

"You mock my cooking, I mock your tuna can portrait of Lance Bass. That's how that works."

"I wasn't mocking! And that portrait was clever! It was just too big for your small mind."

"No," Liam laughed, "it was too big for the doorway."

Louis refused to listen to such ignorance and turned to Harry who was sitting on the floor with his back against the base of the couch. "The tuna crammed in the can symbolized Lance Bass' contained emotions while struggling to keep his sexuality hidden from the public. And then you had the obvious fish comparison with the Bass vs. tuna. Which I'll admit, for the first and last time ever; so get your tape recorders, was a convenient coincidence." 

Harry leaned his head back against the couch. "To say you're mental would just be redundant at this point, right?"

Niall's voice echoed from the kitchen, "mental is as mental does!" The end of his statement was drowned out by the sudden clanging of what sounded like a tower of pots and pans crashing to the floor.

Harry shook his head and exhaled like Louis was wearing him out."You can't say things like that around Niall, he's impressionable."

Louis just shrugged his shoulders and resumed his horizontal position on the couch. He would take a little nap while Liam made dinner. It almost felt like home.

\------------

Because he couldn't cook, Liam only managed to whip up a quick gourmet meal of angel hair pasta in a tomato, basil, and garlic sauce.

Naturally, they were all heartbroken.

Especially Zayn who was two seconds away from actually licking his plate clean, and Niall who was two seconds past doing just that.

They were all sufficiently stuffed when Niall initiated Family Game Night.

"Do you guys wanna play FIFA or something?"

Louis declined, "Liam and I are more of a pictionary/ scrabble/ charades kind of crowd."

"I keep forgetting we're runnin' with the bad boys now," Zayn remarked sarcastically.

"Ohh you jest, but you'll be begging for mercy when we slay you with our superior wisdom of barely known, but completely existent two and three letter words."

"Let's watch a movie," Harry suggested, effectively turning Family Game Night into Family Movie Night. He intercepted Zayn when Zayn opened his mouth to speak.

"Not Stand By Me." 

Zayn deflated as Harry turned to Niall next. "And not Pee Wee's Big Adventure."

Louis lowered his voice to a sultry tone, "Harry, your curls are extra glossy when you're in totalitarian mode."

"Do you have any of the batman movies?" Liam requested, innocuously.

Zayn lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree. "Yes! We do!"

Niall groaned,"noo! What have you done, Liam? You don't know what you've done!" Harry and Niall clung to each other on the floor, and pretended to weep. At least Louis _thought_ they were pretending.

Zayn was a man on a mission as he jumped up off the couch and practically flew to the shelf of movies situated next to the tv stand. 

"Wilson, Lowrey, West, Keaton, Kilmer, Clooney, or Bale?" Zayn asked, he whipped his head towards Liam and rattled the names off in quick succession. 

Liam didn't even hesitate."Keaton."

"Excellent!" Zayn was about a half second away from an evil laugh and a strategically timed strike of lightning. 

"Mate, is that a VCR?" Louis eyed the strange machine with distrust.

"Yes it is. We use it for special occasions, such as any viewing of a Batman movie." He pulled the tape out of it's box and stuffed it inside the player. "I find it gives it a sort of grainier quality, a more sinister feel that I, as a devoted fan, personally appreciate." Zayn grabbed the remote and ran back to the couch to take his spot next to Liam.

Harry and Niall began to make snoring noises.

"Uh uh uh." Zayn waggled a finger."Liam is our guest. If Liam wants to watch Batman, we watch Batman!"

"Well _Louis_ is our guest, too, by the way," Harry stated, "And you didn't even ask if he wanted to watch it."

Zayn appeared to be conflicted. "Oh, he's right, Louis, is Batman okay?" He looked awfully hopeful. 

Louis had never really cared for Batman much. Liam was always the one with the superhero obsession. He would tell them he didn't want to watch the movie if he thought he'd had an actual choice. But he knew this was some kind of invaluable bonding experience with Zayn, for Liam, and Louis thought he could watch some Batman if it contributed to his friend's happiness.

"As a matter of fact, Zayn, I'm not sure I would enjoy anything more than watching Batman on vhs with all of you at this very moment. And I hope I'm not putting anyone in any kind of obligatory position, but if any one person were to leave the room while the movie was still playing, I think I would just take it incredibly personally and never speak to them again." He shot a pointed look at Harry, who smiled sweetly and raised his middle finger high.

Liam rolled his eyes impressively far back into his head. Zayn waited a nano second, said, "Okay, great," and pressed play.

Harry stood up from his place on the floor next to Niall, who's snoring noises, as it turned out, were completely legitimate. He turned off the light before walking over to the loveseat where Louis laid leisurely, and nudged Louis' leg with his foot."Move over."

Louis stayed put." _Boy_ you're bossy."

"This is half of my house," Harry reminded him.

Louis didn't budge."Only half you say? Do you and Zayn have different postal codes?"

"No it's all mine, we lied. The entire house. Every bit. Mine. Now move over," he started to kick Louis again lightly.

"Oh ho okay, let me guess, you also want me to get my arse back in the kitchen and make ya a sandwich?"

Harry smirked, "make the sandwich if you'd like, but you can leave the arse in here."

Louis wasn't sure what to make of that, but he'd never surrendered in a battle of wits before, and he wasn't about to start then.

"So you're a totalitarian _and_ a macho pig? Ooh baby, tell me more!"

"Like, does he have a car?" 

Louis wasn't even given the proper amount of time to swoon over the fact that Harry had causally referenced Grease, when Liam's voice permeated the room. "Would the two of you shut up? Louis, move the fuck over!"

It was hard to tell in the dark, but Louis knew everyone (including Niall who stirred from his slumber before slumping back down into unconsciousness) had turned to stare, surprised at Liam and his foul mouth.

Louis could not believe the hostility, honestly.

Louis eventually moved over. He sat up while Harry plopped down on the couch and put his feet in Louis' lap before he could blink. Louis attempted to give off his best _are you kidding me?_ vibes, but Harry was getting better at ignoring him. Louis squirmed around a bit, settling in as the movie started. He was pleasantly warm, the couch was dry, and it almost felt cozy enough to fall asleep.

\----------

Louis awoke at dawn to find the sky a hazy blue, and Harry's head resting on his chest. He was barely conscious, but he remembered where he was. He knew he was in Zayn and Harry's house, he knew that Liam and Zayn had somehow ended up on the floor not far from Niall, he also knew that he had fallen asleep sitting up. Louis wasn't positive when the horizontal and semi-intimate cuddling happened, though.

Harry slept soundly as quiet puffs of breath escaped through his slightly parted lips. Louis' hand had found it's way to Harry's head during the night, remaining loosely entangled in the soft curls. He could smell Harry's shampoo. It was a scent he couldn't identify, but he'd been forced to leave his toiletries behind in their destroyed bathroom, so that mystery would probably be solved when he inevitably asked to borrow some.

He was set to fall back into his dreams, comfortable and lazy, when he felt Harry shift. Louis didn't know why he suddenly felt like he was about to be caught red-handed. It wasn't as if he had forced their current position. 

He waited for Harry to wake up and question his intentions, but Harry never woke completely. Instead, he began to mumble quietly in his sleep. It didn't take long for Louis to make out a grumbled, _"Mmm axe murderer."_ Louis shook with quiet laughter and craned his neck to watch as Harry snuggled deeper into his side. It felt nice, having the weight of Harry on top of him. He was happy he had decided to let Harry sit on his own couch. And that was the last thing Louis thought, as he drifted off to sleep, pulled back under with the sun rising and Harry's warmth covering him like a blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading! more to come soon.


	8. Flesh Flavored Ice Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to write this chapter twice because I hated it the first time, which is why it took me so long to post it, so I apologize. For a while there I thought they'd be writing down "Chapter 8" as my cause of death. I can't believe it's finished, I'm ready to take a shot over here.
> 
> Anyywayy, I hope you enjoy.

Harry's Sunday morning started with a bad taste in his mouth and a knife to his throat.

A deep voice growled dangerously in his ear, "Where's the money?"

Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Louis, what are you doing?"

"Robbing you blind, what's it look like?" Louis coughed as he failed to maintain his menacing tone.

"Okay," Harry yawned, "mind if I take a piss first?"

Louis rolled his eyes and let his plastic dagger fall onto the living room carpet. "You could've at least _pretended_ to be deathly afraid."

Harry sat up with a groan. "You can take me by surprise when I come out of the bathroom," he yawned again. "I promise I'll scream, and beg you to spare the children." 

"Don't do me any favors," Louis pouted.

Harry dragged himself from the loveseat and gave a single pat to Louis' cheek.

"Buck up, soldier."

He made his way down the short hallway, running his hand along the wall to help himself stay vertical, until he reached the bathroom. 

He'd had a pretty good night's sleep, considering he slept on the couch. If he had planned ahead he would have fallen asleep on the floor. It was easily the most comfortable surface in their entire house, beds included. Falling asleep on top of Louis hadn't exactly been terrible, though.

Harry quickly relieved himself, aiming for the waterproof bulls eye sticker Zayn had adhered to the inside of the toilet bowl when they first moved in. He looked into the mirror as he washed his hands. His eyes looked tired, but that was only because they were. His hair was a bit of a catastrophe and he needed to take a shower before work, but that was going to have to be postponed for the moment with Louis' incessant hollering.

"Harriet, _dahhling!_ If you don't get your pretty little self in here, all the food will be gone and you'll starve!"

Harry let himself smile at the sound of Louis' voice because there were no witnesses, and opened the bathroom door, intent on following the aroma of promised food.

He picked up Louis' plastic dagger from where it was left on the living room floor, securing it in the waistband of his sweatpants, and made his way to the kitchen. Louis and Niall were the only ones there. Niall, with his head down on the table next to a plate formerly known as full, and Louis, sitting across from him, still working on his meal of sausage and eggs. Niall looked like he had just woken up and scraped himself off the carpet, but Louis appeared freshly showered and dressed for the new day, not a trace of farmer's apparel in sight.

"I work in a grocery store," Harry mumbled tiredly. He slumped down into a chair across from Louis and next to Niall.

Louis finished his sip of orange juice and leaned forward. "Uh, yes, you do," he said slowly. _"Very good, Harry._ You also have green eyes and freakishly long legs."

Harry rolled his eyes, "I mean, I won't _starve_ because I'm literally surrounded by food at least 4 hours a day."

Niall lifted his head off the table."No need to rub it in. You're living the dream, we get it." He slammed his head back down onto the table in a way that had to have hurt.

There was only one clean plate in sight, so Harry assumed it was meant for him as he filled it with the remainder of sausage and eggs from the pan that sat in the middle of the table.

His mind caught up with Louis' earlier comments. "And I don't have freakishly long legs."

"Whatever you say," Louis replied, distracted, as he focused on cutting a sausage link with a spoon.

It was a bit unsettling, the way Louis casually slid into their morning routine. He watched Louis play with his food, food he was surprisingly able to hold onto, as he expertly avoided Niall's quick hands looking to steal a stray piece of sausage. He knew anyone unaware of their actual situation would watch the scene without batting an eyelash. They were just a few friends, eating around the kitchen table. And Harry wished some random person _would_ walk in thinking they were all the best of friends, just so he could tell them. Just so he could pat their shoulder and let them know that, no, he actually met Louis 2 days ago. He would tell them that he only learned Louis' _name_ the day before, and a mass amount of water was the only reason they were sleeping in the same house. And eating the same food. And waking each other up with fake knives.

"Where did you even get this?" He pulled the dagger from his waistband and dropped it onto the table.

"Brought it from home." Louis' tongue was between his teeth and his eyes were squinted as he concentrated on building some sort of breakfast food fort.

"Did you bring it for the sole purpose of pretending to threaten me?"

Louis exhaled deeply when his fort came tumbling down."No." He finally looked up from his plate. "It's Tommy Blackburne's 8th birthday tomorrow."

"And your next improvisational installation is crashing an 8 year old's birthday party with a realistic looking weapon?" Harry guessed.

Louis looked surprised and a little suspicious. "How do you know about my improv series?"

Harry felt a jolt of immature joy at being able to surprise Louis for once. "Liam told us about it. Apparently I was there for 2 out of 3 of them."

Louis picked up his fork and turned it in his hand, analyzing like it was some unknown artifact of an ancient civilization."Hm, I suppose you were."

Harry resisted the urge to grab the fork out of his hand and force him to focus on the conversation."So, what? Are you going to pretend to be a murderer or something?"

Louis apparently realized the utensil's native purpose and shoveled a fork full of eggs into his mouth. "A pirate." 

Harry waited for more, but clearly that was all the information Louis deemed necessary. "Why?"

Louis' let his fork fall onto his plate and drooped dejectedly in his chair."I just don't know, Harry." 

A sensitive subject had obviously been hit. 

"I usually try for the more creative themes to expand their horizons, but children don't usually respond well to 'man paralyzed by grief'." Louis went on, "Neither do their parents, really. Who, by the way, are always the first ones to agree that little Sally's education should take top priority, but are the absolute last ones to encourage creative growth, because forcing them to make safe, mind-numbing choices their entire lives couldn't possibly have any sort of negative effect on that precious education they've placed so high on a golden _fucking_ pedestal."

Harry blinked slowly. "Who's little Sally?"

Louis sighed and finished the last bite of food on his plate. He backed away from the table, chair screeching against the tiled floor, and brought his and Niall's empty plates to the sink."I'm talking about my job, love."

His _job_?

Dozens of images ran through Harry's mind. 

He saw Louis working in McDonald's, throwing a milkshake at an old lady, just as a subtle reminder that _you should never take life too seriously._

He saw Louis working in a bookshop, listening intently as someone asked for the location of a specific section, and directing them to the opposite end of the store, _because you'll always find exactly what you want in the last place you'd ever look._

He saw Louis working in a hospital- oh God, he hoped they didn't allow Louis to work in a hospital.

"You have a job?" Harry tried his best not to sound too surprised. 

"Of course I have a job, Harry. Apartments with negligent neighbors don't pay for themselves."

Harry turned in his seat to face where Louis stood by the sink."Your neighbor is dead, Louis. Not negligent. Dead."

"Yeah, whatever," Louis waved his hand carelessly as he walked away into the living room.

Harry left his plate of cold and uneaten food on the table next to a sleeping Niall and followed him.

Louis was curled up on the right side of the couch, so Harry took the left.

"So, what's your job?" Harry asked. He attempted to not sound as eager for answers as he actually was.

"Party entertainment," Louis revealed. "Mostly kid's parties, you know? Some face painting, a few magic tricks... I'm usually in costume to fit their party theme. Prince Charming, Peter Pan, Dora the Explorer..."

"Dora the Explorer?"

"That big mascot head, and Dora's lack of curves makes it entirely possible."

Harry would absolutely _not_ make a comment on how "lack of curves" would 100%, without a doubt be categorized under the list of things Louis and Dora The Explorer did _not_ have in common. Short hair? _Perhaps._ An adventurous spirit? _Sure_. A tendency to never shut up? Fucking identical twins. But a lack of curves? Not with _those_ thighs.

He played it cool, though. "Glad an 8 year old cartoon's figure has worked so fully to your advantage."

There was a thin line between simple chit chat and a 20 question type interrogation, so Harry silently counted to ten before asking, "What does Liam do?"

Louis pulled at a loose strand of thread on his skinny jeans."Liam is currently between life choices." 

"You mean he doesn't have a job, or go to school or anything?" 

_Easy,_ Styles. 

"He picks up odd jobs here and there. Food taster, parade cleanup crew, plasma donor."

"Oh. I would've thought that-"

"You would've thought that Liam was the one with the solid foundation and a 5 year plan?" Louis looked him straight in the eyes.

Harry was probably better off not saying anything ever again.

"Ah, it's okay," Louis reassured him. "I'm surprised too, to be honest. It probably would have gone like that if things had been different."

Sensing that Louis wasn't prepared to elaborate on that specific topic any longer, Harry shifted the conversation.

"Speaking of Liam, where is he?" He looked around the room like he expected to find Liam sitting silently in a corner. "And Zayn. Did Zayn go to work already?"

"Oh, you haven't heard." Louis leaned closer to him and whispered, "it's first date day."

Harry whispered back, "It is?"

"Mhm, you slept right through the start of it! Zayn really did it up right. Woke up extra early and made a lovely breakfast just for Liam."

"Wait, _Zayn_ made that?" Harry pointed towards the kitchen.

"He was even nice enough to leave us the scraps." Louis seemed to be genuinely touched that Zayn had allowed them the remnants of his romantic gesture.

"Okay." Harry processed the words slowly, still trying to grasp the concept of Zayn. In a kitchen. Cooking food. For actual human consumption. "So where are they now?"

Louis closed his eyes and clutched his chest as if retelling the best parts of a romantic novel. "Now I believe they're at the funeral. Wonderful luck with this gorgeous weather!"

Harry gazed out the bay window. "Yeah, it is quite nice out. Wish I didn't have to work for most of-- he took Liam to a funeral?"

"Yup," Louis confirmed happily.

Harry really should've stopped asking questions after the answers started stringing "Zayn" and "extra early" together.

"Well, that's fantastic for them. I need to take a shower." 

Louis pinched his nose closed and because he thought he was funny, said, "that's probably a good idea."

Harry ignored him. "What are you doing today?" As he asked the question he was inexplicably overwhelmed with the feeling he had forgotten something.

Louis hummed in thought "I have to stop by our apartment and sign some paperwork for the landlord, and then I thought I'd go wherever the wind takes me."

"Sounds wonderful," Harry said plainly. He was still trying to wrack his brain for what he couldn't remember as his eyes fell to the clock that read 10:47am. He didn't have to be at the store until 12. 

"Oh shit." Harry ran to the kitchen suddenly recalling his responsibility. "Niall! wake up!"

Niall jumped, sending his chair and himself toppling to the floor. "What?! What is it?! What happened?! I'm awake!" he fumbled as he tried to stand in a dazed stupor.

"Sorry, Ni." Harry helped him steady himself. "You're going to be late for work."

"Oh, right." He looked around for a second, clapped Harry on the shoulder, and left the kitchen. Harry followed him until he stopped in front of the cupboard under the stairs. Niall pulled the short door open and disappeared inside. Harry watched Louis look on in fascination as a beach ball, a multitude of snapbacks, some mardi gras beads, and a large shovel were thrown out into the room behind him. Niall finally emerged, miraculously changed from day-old clothes to creased khaki pants and a red uniform shirt that read _"Everything Sports"_ stitched in white on the breast pocket.

Louis stretched out lazily along the couch."I thought only Harry and Zayn live here."

Niall gathered up the strewn objects one by one from the floor and threw them back into the cupboard. When he came to the mardi gras beads, he examined them with care before throwing them around his neck and closing the cupboard door. "They do. I just keep a few things here, ya know, since I'm around a lot."

Louis chuckled, "So the cupboard under the stairs is your room, then?"

"He's our Irish Harry Potter," Harry announced.

"'Cept I don't cook for them, and I prefer hearses to broomsticks," Niall added as he picked a piece of lint off his collar.

Louis quirked an eyebrow. "And that's the only difference between you and Harry Potter?"

"Pretty much," Niall nodded.

Louis accepted it. "Good to know." 

Niall shrugged, "alright, lads. Gotta run. I'll stop by the store later."

And with that he ran back into the kitchen to undoubtedly grab Harry's uneaten food, retrieved his wallet from the space on the floor where he had passed out the previous night, and literally skipped out the front door, throwing Louis a high five and ruffling Harry's hair along the way.

Louis leered at him creepily. "And then there were two."

\-----------------------

 

It had been 4 long hours sitting at the counter at Gilligan's. Harry had had to resort to stacking coins from the register, hoping Reggie wouldn't walk in and catch him, for entertainment. He had already been caught slacking off once that day, but in his defense, he had just waxed the floor and it was practically begging to be slid across in socked feet. When Reggie had walked in and found Harry doing his version of the moonwalk to _Give Me One Reason_ by _Tracy Chapman_ , he had complimented the floor's wax job, and confiscated Harry's radio.

Barely any customers came in anymore since the opening of the new superstore across town, and Harry was desperate for some human interaction by the time the door swung open to reveal Louis in all his glory, a golden sword outstretched in his hand, glistening in the light.

"Excuse me! Do you sell fuel in this establishment?"

Okay he wasn't _that_ desperate for human interaction.

"I _will_ kill you. Zayn has access to a crematory, Louis. They'll never find a body."

Louis threw his sword on the counter, almost knocking over Harry's coins."Crematory doesn't sound as terrible as it should. It sounds like an ice cream factory."

"It's not ice cream related." Harry glared at the sword, he figured it was a pirate thing.

"Yes, Cashier Harry, I am aware that the flesh incinerating machine is not ice cream related."

Harry continued to add to his stack of coins."That's a relief."

Louis sighed,"You're no fun."

"I'm plenty fun," Harry shot back, probably a little too harshly.

"Your tower of coins and gloomy disposition are telling a different tale," Louis singsonged.

"M'not gloomy," Harry mumbled.

"Oh, but you are. You need an adventure! What do you like to do for fun?"

Harry continued to stack his coins. "Nothing as exciting as dressing up and terrorizing my neighbors, I can assure you."

Louis gave him a dissatisfied look, " _Harold._ "

Harold? The nicknames just kept on coming.

"Fine. Um. I guess, I like to play golf," Harry admitted. 

Louis stared at him. "Golf. Right. Because you're 85. Anything else?"

Harry didn't know if he wanted to be completely honest, but he couldn't really think of a good enough reason not to be. It wasn't like it was a big deal. "I like to sing? Mostly hits from the 90's. At loud volumes. It gets me in trouble around here."

"Okay, now _that_ I can work with!" Louis remarked, excitedly. "So what are we talking here? Spice Girls? NSYNC? Or are we not washing our hair for two weeks and blasting Pearl Jam?"

"You listen to Pearl Jam?" Harry asked, skeptically.

"I listen to whatever speaks to me, Cashier Harry."

Harry smirked, "And Pearl Jam speak to you, do they?"

Louis looked a little shifty-eyed. "Sometimes."

Harry's mood was lifting by the second.

"Well, what do they say?" Harry leaned forward on the counter, arms folded, and immensely interested in where the conversation was headed.

"Oh, you know. Just uh..." Harry nodded his head and gave Louis his undivided attention."Wherever you're going, never give up on the good times. And you just, you gotta believe in the love you find, ya know?"

"Wow. That's beautiful," Harry breathed with feigned bewilderment.

Louis nodded solemnly, "yeah, those rockers really hit home with that one, hearts of marshmallow under those lumberjack shirts."

"I think I remember that album. A bit overrated as a whole though, yeah?"

Louis looked disgraced to even be sharing the same air as him. "Overrated?! _Spiceworld_ is legendary!"

"And we are, of course, talking about _Spiceworld_ , the beloved _Pearl Jam_ album, right?"

"Oh shut it, you know I don't listen to Pearl Jam." Louis pushed Harry's face away as they both gave up the act and started laughing.

There was a brief moment where Harry wished he had reached out to grab Louis' hand. Suddenly his Do-Over Dreamworld was coming back to haunt him in a very different way. This time it didn't want to show Louis up, or give Harry the ability to do one handed cartwheels. It did make him wish the counter would disappear, so he pull Louis closer and feel the laughter vibrate throughout his body. And it did make Harry want to capture Louis' lips with his own, and take him home so they could fuck to a Pearl Jam/ Spice Girls mash-up on the loveseat where they fell asleep last night.

And _whoa,_ okay. Do-Over Dreamworld needed to stop. Do-Over Dreamworld needed to stop immediately.

His very bad, no good, terrible thoughts were thankfully interrupted by incoming customers.

"Every time I walk in here I have this uncontrollable urge to sing the Gilligan's Island theme tune," Niall's voice called out as he walked through the door.

Zayn followed close behind him, his arm draped around Liam's waist. "Well, you've managed to control the uncontrollable for this long, I think you can resist one more time."

Okay so, _customers_ was probably a stretch, but Harry would take any distraction sent his way.

"Hey Lou! Louis Lou-Lou!" Liam bounded over to Louis and wrapped him up in a gigantic bear hug.

Louis hugged him back tightly and Harry definitely wasn't jealous because that would be stupid.

"Hey, Li," Louis looked at him fondly.

Liam looked to Harry, "Hi Harry!" He turned to Zayn and buried his face in his neck, giggling, "Hairy Harry."

Apparently the funeral had gone well.

"Hi, Liam-" Harry tried to think of a slightly insulting but still fun adjective for Liam in return, but his thoughts were halted as Niall walked straight past them and started pulling as many cans as he could fit in his arms off the shelf. When he reached his limit, he walked over to the counter and set them down in a heap before going back for another round. 

Nobody said anything until it was clear he was going back a third time.

"Hey, Ni, I thought you already stocked up for winter," Harry joked.

"He's a squirrel!" Liam laughed.

Niall still didn't answer.

"Uh, Niall? I know you eat a lot, but you're really making me wonder where the line of intervention should begin," Zayn said delicately.

Harry wasn't entirely sure whether Niall needed a plain ol' intervention or a good ol' fashioned exorcism.

Finally on his fourth trip back to the register he managed some eye contact. His pupils weren't black, or red, or yellow, so the demon possession theory was put on the back burner. 

For now.

"It's not for me." Niall said easily. He eyed the pile of cans and picked up three of them. "Well, these are for me, but the rest are for the food drive."

"Food drive?" Harry questioned.

"Food?" Liam perked up at the idea.

"Uh, yeah. I got the idea the other day when those _people_ ," he spat the word and wrinkled his nose, "were throwing out all that unused food from The Market. I had a dream about it, right? Some little kids were just starvin', out in the cold, while that old hag's throwing bread in the garbage instead of giving it to them." 

Niall walked back to the shelf and loaded up yet _another_ armful of cans to bring back to the counter. "So I called up the guy in charge of The Market on my lunch break. Found his number online. He's actually not a bad guy. Didn't even know all that food was going to waste. So I talked to him, told him 'bout my plan to collect the leftover food at the end of every Saturday and give 'em to some local shelters. Some lady overheard me on the phone outside work and started talking to me about it, saying how canned food drives helped a lot of people. So she gave me 10 quid to buy some cans of food, and told me I was making a difference. And then all these other people around started handing me money tellin' me to donate in their names. Now they're letting me set up a drop off bin for cans and donations at the store. I'm really excited about it."

Niall finally ended his relay of the day's events and took deep breath. He sounded exhausted, and apparently it was for a good reason.

They all just kind of stood there.

Liam spoke first, "Niall, that's _really_ wonderful!" he ran over and enveloped him in a warm embrace. Niall smiled and patted his head.

"You did all that today?" Louis raised his eyebrows, impressed.

Liam released Niall and he nodded. "Yeah, I mean, once it got started it sort of wouldn't stop."

"And you have enough money to buy all these cans?" Harry asked, dubiously.

Niall pulled out a long envelope that was stuffed to capacity. He tossed it on the counter where it landed with a _thud_.

"Holy Shit." Zayn picked up the envelope quickly and peeked inside."They trust you with this much money? What are they rich _and_ stupid?"

Niall snatched the envelope back and laughed, "Fuck off."

Liam volunteered excitedly, "we should help! I wanna help! We can help collect donations around town, and Louis can dress as Santa to deliver the food to the shelters around Christmas and we can be reindeer!"

Zayn looked at Liam with a disgustingly sweet smile and kissed his cheek. 

"Like Louis needs to wait until Christmas to dress as Santa," Harry said sarcastically.

" _Actually,_ Harry, I do. Santa is a sacred costume."

"Oh of course, I am dreadfully sorry."

"You can all help," Niall smiled, big and bright. "First thing you can do is help me carry these cans to Lucia, and let me keep them at your house."

"Yeah it'll all fit in your cupboard," Zayn recommended.

"We'll have to move the shovel," Harry noted as he began to ring up the impossible amount of cans Niall intended to purchase.

"Louis, I have a special surprise for you." Liam whispered out of nowhere.

Louis grinned mischievously, "Sounds kinky."

"It didn't sound kinky! Did it sound kinky?" Liam looked a bit paranoid.

Louis shrugged, "Kinda." 

Liam threw his hands up in the air, smiling, "anything sounds dirty to you, Loubear! I could say," he looked around for some inspiration and continued, "I could say _Betty Crocker's Super Moist Cake_ and you'd think it sounded-" Liam stopped and doubled over, clutching the counter.

Harry didn't know what was happening. Liam looked like he was in pain. Was he crying?

"Super-," Liam heaved, hysterical. Hysterical _laughter,_ Harry decided. "Super moist- Her super moist-" 

"You're right, Liam," Louis deadpanned, "there is absolutely nothing dirty about Betty Crocker, or her super moist cake."

"That's filthy, Liam," Niall said, scandalized, as he placed some cans in plastic grocery bags.

"Gunna have you read some more food labels later, babe." Zayn wrapped his arms around Liam, sucking his neck gently.

Liam stopped laughing rather abruptly. He rotated in Zayn's arms, pulling Zayn's mouth off of his neck and onto his lips in a kiss that surely did not abide by the Gilligan's Grocery code of conduct. Zayn's hands started to roam south, dangerously close to Liam's hindquarters. Harry had an urge to cover the tomatoes he had just restocked. They were so young, not even fully ripened, it was too soon to expose them to such debauchery.

Louis looked at Harry, obviously confused, before he moved closer to Liam and leaned up to sniff his hair. He gasped, "Liam Payne! Are you _high_?"

He physically peeled Zayn and Liam's faces apart. "Zayn, is he high?!"

Zayn shrugged and rubbed at his kiss-swollen mouth. That's when Harry noticed Liam and Zayn's matching bloodshot eyes. Harry figured Louis realized it roughly around the same time.

"Oh my god you're both high as kites." Louis shook his head at the ceiling. "Liam, what am I to do with you? You can't just go running off, doing drugs with boys who make you eggs benedict and take you to funerals!"

Liam giggled, " _benedict._ "

"He got eggs benedict?" Harry was baffled.

"Liam's the apple of his eye," Niall explained simply.

"Then why didn't he give him an apple?" Harry pointed at Zayn, "the one day in your life that you decide to become the iron chef, _he_ gets eggs benedict, and we get cold sausage?"

"Ben's a dick!" Liam shouted. Zayn snorted and exploded with uncontrollable laughter.

Louis rubbed his temples. "Christ."

Zayn and Liam were beginning a game of patty-cake over Louis's head when Reggie walked through the front door.

Time to find a new job. He wondered if he'd be allowed to keep the name-tag.

"Harry, I hope you restocked those tomatoes because--" Reggie closed the door softly and surveyed the scene before him. "Well what's going on here?"

"Oh, hey, Reg! Um. These are my friends. They're customers, though! They're buying food! Lots of food!" Harry scooped up a handful of cans as evidence.

Reggie walked over to the counter. "My, those certainly are a lot of cans!" he chuckled.

Niall resumed placing cans in the plastic bags. "Yeah we're organizing a food drive."

Reggie looked down at Niall's uniform shirt and gasped,"You're that young man from the sports store! I just passed by there today. So many donations already! Oh, I think what you're doing is just lovely. You can't pay for these! Consider it a donation from Gilligan's Grocery!"

Niall stopped bagging the cans and looked at Reggie, stunned."Wow, thank you so much!"

"Of course!"

Niall resumed his packaging with a little more pep. "You know, I love this store. I think that new one 'cross town is way too flashy. Even I don't need 40 different brands of the same type of cheese. And I love cheese."

"It is a tad excessive." Reggie tilted his head and laughed. 

Harry thought that was probably the worst thing Reggie had ever said about anything in his entire life.

Niall went on with his praise. "Plus every time I come here I want to sing the Gilligan's Island theme tune, and you don't get that anywhere else!"

Reggie looked downright giddy."Me too! Every time I see the sign!"

Niall smiled slyly, "Wouldn't suppose you'd-"

Reggie clapped his hands together."One round?"

Harry didn't even fully comprehend what was about to happen when they began to sing.

" _Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip..._ "

Liam started bopping his head to the sound of Niall and Reggie's voices. And because it took two, he grabbed Zayn's elbow and coerced him into doing the tango. Although it didn't really look like it had taken much persuasion.

Niall and Reggie's voices boomed suddenly, " _...A THREE HOUR TOUR!_ "

Louis walked around the counter and whispered in Harry's ear "I think they're all on acid, mate."

Harry just nodded, transfixed.

It was apparently time for solos, as Niall took the lead and pointed at Reggie," _With GILLIGAN!_ " 

Reggie didn't miss a beat when it came time for his chance to shine. " _The Skipper, toooo!_ "

They held onto each other's shoulders and bent their knees. " _A millionaiiire and his wiiiiiiife!_ "

" _A mooovie stahh._ " Reggie struck a pose.

Harry would never, ever, forgive himself for not recording this, but he couldn't even move to get his phone from his pocket.

Liam chose that moment to join in. " _The professor and Mary- Ann!_ "

Realizing they had the potential to turn their duet into a four-part harmony, Reggie and Niall moved over to create a circle with Liam and Zayn for the big finish." _HERE ON GILLIGAN'S ISLE!!_ "

It was the end of an era, as the band broke formation and clapped for themselves.

Louis leaned on his shoulder. "Harry, we need to get some drugs, I'm feeling left out."

Harry didn't need drugs, though. He was actually quite sure that someone had already slipped him something and the last 3 days had been a hallucination.

Reggie shifted his focus to the counter. "Harry, your friends should stop by more often!" He turned to Niall, examining his mardi gras beads, "And I love that necklace!" 

Yeah, Harry was pretty sure he was already on drugs. 

\-----------------------

The next day started with yet another dangerous growl from Louis. 

Harry's eyes weren't even open when he was hit with a pillow and an " _Arr!_ Show a leg! Ya lazybones! Or you'll be forced to walk the plank!"

Louis stood in the middle of Harry's bedroom completely transformed. Harry had to admit it was sort of brilliant. He wore a white billowy shirt that was messily tucked into charcoal colored breeches, and covered by a black knee-length pirate's coat adorned with bronze accents. His black calf-length boots were folded at the tops, and a red bandanna wrapped around his head underneath a distressed black tricorn hat. And of course his trusty sword was held in place by a sheath on his belt.

Harry couldn't help but smile. "Looks like you're having a mighty good time with your _'safe and mind-numbing'_ costume choice, there, Louis. What would little Sally say?"

Louis pointed an accusatory finger, "Ye tryin' t' start a war?"

"Uh, _ye_ wouldn't dream of it." Harry rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow, ready to go back to sleep.

"Arrghh!! Shiver me timbers!" There were 2 seconds of silence before the air whooshed out of Harry's lungs as Louis landed directly on top of him.

"Gii oof, oohweee, gii oof!" Harry mumbled as he was suffocated by the pillow. Louis moved the pillow off his face in a suspiciously kind way, but it all made sense when he started torturing Harry by tickling his sides. "Get off, Louis. Oh my god, get off, I'm gunna kill you, get away from me!"

Louis finally ceased the abuse, and it was a good thing, because Harry didn't know how long it would be before Louis "accidentally" got kicked in the head.

They laid side by side on Harry's bed, staring at the ceiling while their labored breathing evened out.

Harry closed his eyes. "What does 'show a leg' mean?"

"It means get the hell up and help me find my dagger," Louis grinned before jumping up and pulling Harry along with him.

Harry tripped over his bedsheets as he tried to keep up and fell to the floor. Louis, of course, left him to his own devices as he practiced his drunken pirate swagger right out of the room.

When Harry arrived downstairs in the living room, he found Liam and Zayn curled into each other on the couch, sharing a bowl of cereal. At least they weren't using the same spoon, Harry thought, as they began to feed each other. 

And Harry was going to be sick.

"Louis!"

"Arrghh!!" Louis' voice rattled off the walls of the bathroom.

"Where should I look for your dagger?"

"All o'er th' cabin floor!" Louis answered.

Harry had asked, and he had no one to blame but himself.

Not wanting to scream through the house, he walked the short distance to the bathroom.

"Where exactly is _th' cabin floor,_ though? And when did Zayn and Liam start feeding each other? Because-"

Harry hesitated in the doorway as he came face to face with Louis' reflection in the bathroom mirror. Louis, who was deep in concentration as he outlined his eyes with black kohl. His eyes were oceans. Oceans as blue as the seven pirated seas. Framed in black, they pierced Harry's very soul like the dagger he was supposed to be looking for.

Oh, Harry was in trouble. Harry was in big, big trouble.

"Is it too much? I mean Jack Sparrow's a bad ass and _he_ pulls it off, so I figured it'd be okay," Louis reasoned, catching Harry's gaze in the mirror and apparently requesting his opinion. Harry couldn't give it to him, though. Not without spilling intimate details of the pirate fetish he had recently acquired. 

"Um. I couldn't- it's fine," Harry expressed, eloquent as ever.

Louis didn't seem to be phased by Harry's inability to not sound like a moron as he ripped open a cardboard package and quickly adhered a fake goatee to his face. When the faux facial hair was in place, he took a step back and examined his upper half in the mirror.

Harry was sure _he'd_ be examining Louis' lower half if it wasn't for that damn coat. 

And there he went again. _Jesus._ What was he, an animal?

He tried to make a complete, coherent statement. "You look great. Really. You'll be the best pirate Tommy Blackburne's ever seen. Fuck Jack Sparrow!"

"Oh, I'd like to." Louis winked cheekily. 

_Fuckin' Jack Sparrow._

"Okay, I'm ready." With one final glance in the mirror, Louis marched out of the bathroom.

Harry followed him back to the living room where Zayn held the dagger in an outstretched hand. "It was under the cushions."

"Thank ye, me hearty!" Louis tipped his hat, taking the dagger and shoving it into a smaller sheath beside his sword.

"You need a dagger and a sword?" Liam asked as he cuddled a little closer to Zayn.

"Liam, if I want to be the best pirate I can possibly be, I have to have at least 3 weapons at my disposal at all times."

Liam sighed, "What's your third weapon then?"

"My charming wit, of course! Never leave home without it," Louis grinned. "Okay, I'm off! Goodbye, scallywags!" He unsheathed his sword, and pointed in towards the door, letting it shine in the light.

"Do you want me to drive you?" The offer spilled out of Harry before he could really think about it.

Louis put his sword down. "What?"

Harry was already looking for his shoes. "Unless your ship is awaitin' you're taking the bus, right? 

Louis squinted, "Right..."

"So let me drive you to the party."

Zayn coughed, "And who's car will you you be driving, exactly?"

Oh, right.

"Zayn," Harry fluttered his eyelashes, "may I please borrow Lucia?"

"As long as you feed her. And give her kisses." He fished his keys out of his pocket.

"Okay." Harry quickly agreed and went to grab the keys, but Zayn moved them so they were just out of reach.

"Harry, I'm serious. And the kisses are more important."

"Jesus Christ, okay!"

Zayn rested the keys in his palm. "And watch that mouth while you're at it. Lucia's a Christian. Can't be taking the Lord's name in vain and shit."

Harry grabbed his shoes from behind the couch and ushered Louis out the door before Zayn ordered them to take turns making sweet love to his deathmobile. 

\------------

They had been driving for about 5 minutes when Louis ran out of sea shanties to sing.

Thank God.

They stopped at the nearest petrol station to "feed" Lucia. Which Louis thought was cute.

"And so what are the kisses? Washing the windows or something?"

Harry gave him a pointed look before dropping his head down to kiss the steering wheel.

Louis looked mildly horrified."Oh, Zayn needs to get shagged, doesn't he."

"I'm pretty sure Liam's got him covered." Harry thought back to the night before when they had all arrived home. Liam and Zayn had stumbled to Zayn's bedroom in a marijuana and lust-filled haze, slamming the door behind themselves frantically.

Louis snorted, "Yeah, I suppose he does." 

"So did you ever find out what Liam's special secret surprise was?" Harry asked.

"Hm? Oh yes. Liam picked me a lovely purple flower. It looked like me because it had my eyes. At least that's what Liam said when he woke me up at 2:00 this morning to give it to me. They really must have been on acid because his high lasted _way_ too long." Louis was quiet for a minute before he spoke again."You didn't have to drive me, you know. I don't mind taking the bus."

"It's not a problem," Harry assured him.

"I probably could've killed 2 birds with 1 stone and done another installation on the way. Asked the bus driver if he'd seen my pirate ship, or something."

Harry decided not to share his knowledge of how you can get arrested for harassing a bus operator, and asked what had been on his mind since Friday.

"Why do you do it?"

Louis refolded the cuff of his jacket."You mean what's the point?"

Harry was surprised Louis understood what he meant.

"Yeah."

"I don't really know what to tell you," Louis sighed. "Short answer is that art can not be fully explained."

"What about art classes? They don't explain art in art classes?"

Louis rolled his eyes "Well you can _teach_ people about types of art, Harry, but they'll never truly understand it unless they experience it firsthand."

Harry thought it over. "I guess that makes sense."

It was silent for a minute or two. It didn't feel comfortable, though. It felt awkward and Harry wanted it to stop.

"I watch Whose Line," he blurted out.

Louis fixed him with a curious look, "Whose line?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed.

Louis was puzzled."Huh?" 

"What?" Harry was dizzy."The show, Louis. It's called Whose Line Is It Anyway."

"Never heard of it."

"You've never-" Harry decided to just accept the fact that some people lived under a rock. "Okay, well it's an improvisation show. It's literally all they do the entire time."

Louis looked out the window as they approached the address he had given Harry when they first got into the car.

"Sounds cool, Harry. I'll have to watch it some time."

Harry pulled the car to a stop right in front of a white two story house with blue shutters. There was a shiny banner across the double doors that read 'Happy Birthday, Tommy', and dozens of kids ran around the front yard with eye patches and inflatable swords.

"Yeah, you should. But what I'm saying is that I get how it all works."

Louis looked lost.

"So I'm ready," Harry continued to explain.

"Ready? Ready to what?" Louis questioned with a furrowed brow as he double checked his makeup in a compact mirror.

"To 'experience it firsthand'" Harry quoted.

Louis stopped moving then. He closed the mirror and turned his body completely in his seat to face Harry's direction. 

"You mean that?"

"Yeah." Harry suddenly felt like he was making a mistake and really good decision all at the same time.

Louis smiled. Bigger than Harry had seen him smile in the few short days he had known him.

"Okay then, Cashier Harry." Louis adjusted his collar and braced himself for 2 1/2 hours of pirate jargon and bratty kids. "At dawn, we ride."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! And there's more to come soon! :)


	9. Overrated Oxygen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis' POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to comment on how long it took me to update. Just know that I am ashamed.
> 
> Also, this is the longest chapter of my entire life, so for the love of all that is holy, please enjoy.

Louis was just about ready to collapse by the time he made it back to Harry and Zayn's block on Thursday evening. He readjusted his grip on his tote-bag filled with firewood, and rubbed at his sore neck; still feeling the aftereffects of Tommy Blackburne's party earlier that week. When he had arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Blackburne had had a few questions as to why _in heaven's name_ he had been dropped off in a hearse, before pushing him towards a group of 27 kids who were already high on sugar and treated him as their personal jungle gym. It wasn't all bad though. He'd earned plenty of respect by the end of the day after completely destroying them in a high-stakes game of ring toss.

Louis trudged up the walkway of his temporary home, reaching in his pocket for his supplies. The safety pin was pretty much an ever-present object in his pocket. He had to go a bit out of his way to acquire the tension wrench though.

Louis inserted the wrench and assessed the situation. He stuck the safety pin in next, patiently wiggling it around until he found the right spot. Louis leaned into it. _Just a little further and..._ suddenly the door was yanked sharply away from him."Hey! What the- oh, hi, Niall."

Niall stood over Louis where he and his firewood were sprawled across the threshold.

"Were you picking the lock again?"

"No." Louis ran a hand through his hair. "Yes."

Niall shook his head and helped Louis to his feet. "You could just knock, you know."

Louis retrieved his safety pin and wrench from where they had fallen and slipped them back into his pocket. "Eh, too mainstream."

"Right. Well, I'm off." Niall moved to step around him.

Louis pouted. "Wait, where are you going? I'm gonna force Liam to make us dinner again. You should stay."

"The fruits of Liam's slave labor sound delicious, but I have a date," Niall announced.

Louis waggled his eyebrows. "Aha! I thought I saw a spark between you and Reggie!"

Niall squatted down to scoop the fallen firewood back into Louis' tote-bag. "Reggie's awesome. Good sense of humor, handsome; loves animals, too! Did you know he adopted an emperor penguin chick? Name's Dotty. He has a picture of her in his wallet."

Louis had been seriously thinking about helping to pick up the wood, but there were more pressing issues than scattered lumber at hand. "Niall, you're not going on a date with Reggie, are you?"

Niall stood and handed the bag to Louis. "Nah, I'm not really into blokes," he admitted. "I'm just sayin' he'd be a catch."

Louis believed him, but he wasn't quite scrapping the outfit he'd already planned for their Gilligan's Island themed wedding. "Well I'm sure he'll be caught eventually. Have a good time with the lucky lady."

"Thanks. You have fun with those two." Niall nodded to the room behind them where Liam and Zayn were lying on the living room floor, staring at the ceiling in silence.

Probably the effects of the ganja. 

"What are they doing?"

"The same thing they've been doing for three hours," he exhaled deeply. "See ya later, Louis," Niall said, and headed out the door.

Louis turned his full attention to Zayn and Liam- or Bob Marley- as Louis had grown to call him. Ever since he'd witnessed Liam giddy and gone off the good stuff, Louis had been making every stoner joke known to man. As far as he knew, Liam had failed to dabble in anymore illegal substances, but that didn't really matter when the dreadlock jokes practically told themselves. Liam had probably written the handbook on how to deal with Louis and his tomfoolery the first year they had met, but Louis was becoming increasingly impressed with how Liam seemed to have gotten ignoring his comments down to a science. Unfortunately he seemed to have taught Zayn that science lesson on the sly. But that didn't mean Louis wasn't still going strong.

" _Cheech!_ Chong! So good to see you again!"

They didn't acknowledge him, most likely lingering in some sort of (one)love trance.

He moved to stand by their heads and looked up towards the patch of ceiling that held their attention. He didn't see what they saw. Unless what they saw was the same off-white ceiling found in just about every room of the house.

He crouched down and lightly knocked on each of their foreheads." _Yoo-hoo._ Anyone in there?"

"Hi, Louis," Liam finally answered, dully. 

"You don't sound too excited to see me. Has the buzz worn off already? Hate when that happens."

As he predicted, Liam completely ignored his remarks. "We're trying to think of a color."

"For the walls," Zayn explained further.

This would not do. He needed a reaction. He needed them to break."Remodeling the drug den?"

Liam's gaze never left the ceiling. "Zayn's been meaning to repaint the walls. He asked my opinion."

"Well, you _are_ the Jay to his Silent Bob," Louis reasoned.

"S'bit dreary in here, don't you think?" Zayn asked, eyes roaming the walls.

Louis looked around the room. "Could use a little more personality, I guess. What color did you have in mind? No wait," he lowered his voice, "what would Harold and Kumar do?"

"Well _I_ loved the Peppery," Liam said. He looked at Zayn who looked less than thrilled by the idea."But the Cavern Clay was--"

" _Love_ the Cavern Clay," Zayn agreed forcefully.

"I don't think the paint color will matter if you just hang a few blacklight posters! Add a beanbag or two? Such space savers, those beanbags! You'll have more than enough room for the gravity bong."

Liam shot up to sit pretzel legged and pointed somewhere behind Zayn's head. "What if we did two colors?! The one color for three walls, and the fourth wall as-"

"A focal point!" Zayn sat up to mirror Liam's position.

Liam placed his hands on Zayn's thighs. "Yes!"

Zayn leaned over and kissed Liam's cheek. "The one with the window?"

Liam hung his head and exhaled deeply. "We'll need to revisit the blues and find a hue that-"

"Harmonizes with the sky, I know." Zayn sighed and stood up, reaching for a stack of connected color swatches on the couch. "We liked the Cooled Blue, didn't we?"

"Very beach house," Liam reminded him.

" _Very_ beach house." Zayn agreed, pulling Liam to his feet.

Louis abandoned his stoner standup and tuned into their episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition from Hell.

"I'm starting to think you two actually killed Mr. Livingston and threw buckets of water everywhere so you'd have an excuse to move in together."

They continued to pay him no mind, lost in concentration, as Liam opened the window and watched Zayn stick his hand out, comparing paper paint samples to the sky.

Louis needed someone to help him mock. It just wasn't the same laughing at them all alone. Harry would laugh with him.

"Where's Harry?"

"Upstairs," Zayn replied distractedly. He'd relocated halfway across the room, relinquishing his paper holding duties to Liam as he squinted and studied the window from multiple angles. 

"Cheers." Louis headed towards the stairs, glancing back when Zayn gasped, "Babe! this one is almost the _exact_ color of your eyes in the sunlight!" 

Louis walked a little quicker after that. He climbed the stairs, padded down the hallway, and rapped an arrhythmical pattern on Harry's bedroom door.

Harry's muffled voice called out, "Who is it?"

Louis took the question as an open invitation and entered the room, closing the door quickly behind himself. 

Harry's room was dark. The curtains were drawn and the only source of light was a blue and purple lava lamp sitting on a corner desk. 

He momentarily basked in the image of presenting Liam and Zayn with a lava lamp as their joint Christmas gift. 

Even with the low lighting, Louis could see that Harry was on his bed. The shape of him lost beneath the covers, illuminated lava drifting shadows across his face.

Louis leaned against the door. "Is it safe in here?"

Harry sat up and fluffed his pillow rather violently before settling back down. "Dunno. That lamp can get pretty hot."

Louis kicked off his shoes and moved towards the bed."You can pour _actual_ lava all over my naked body as long as you're not repainting anything."

Harry lifted up the duvet to let Louis crawl in next to him. "But, _babe,_ the Cream matches the Country House Blue perfectly!" Harry whined, in a near perfect impersonation of Zayn.

He knew Harry wouldn't let him down. "But the _Peppery_ harmonizes with the burning passion that stirs my loins every time you walk into the room!" 

Harry laughed deeply. "We should tie them up. Have Niall hold their eyes open while we paint everything black." 

Louis snorted at the image. "Niall's not that cruel."

Harry's hum of agreement turned into a protesting grunt as Louis pulled the third pillow out from under Harry's head, claiming it as his own. He grinned impishly as Harry glared.

The fact that Harry slept with a ridiculous amount of pillows was just one of the many things Louis had learned about him in the last few days. Additionally, Louis had learned that Harry was exceedingly grumpy in the mornings. Two chocolate marshmallow energy bars and approximately 7 minutes of silence was the only recipe for dissolving his bad mood. He knew Harry hated people with disorganized itunes libraries. And after a full day of begging, he knew that Harry's hair care routine involved a top secret mixture of strawberries and cream shampoo and Hawaiian coconut conditioner. He was also aware that Harry preferred to sleep on the living room floor more often than not. Actually, the floor seemed to be both Zayn _and_ Harry's surface of choice. But Zayn was more likely to pull Liam along to his bedroom at the end of the night. Harry was more likely to stay and sleep on the floor next to where Louis stretched out on the couch, his many pillows elevating his head to a nose-bleeding altitude. 

Louis wrapped his arms around the pillow he had stolen and sighed pleasantly. Harry may have preferred the floor, but Louis missed sleeping on an actual bed. It was quiet for a moment when Louis noticed the soft music playing in the background.

_...on the block had a buncha hits, Chinese food makes me sick! And I think it's fly when girls stop by for the summer, for the summer_

"Ugh, I thought you said it was safe in here!" Louis groaned and covered his head with the blanket.

"What? I warned you about the lava lamp." Harry tugged the blanket down off his face.

"Not the _lamp!_ " He pointed in the direction of Harry's stereo. "I'm referring to Satan's favorite feel-good jam. Is that what you call a 90's _hit_ "

Harry shrugged. "Statistically." He added, "I love this song."

Louis waited for the punchline. He waited for Ashton and his camera crew to pop out of the closet.

Nothing.

"Farewell, Harold." Louis moved to pull himself from the bed and away from the madness, but Harry's arms were around his waist before his feet could hit the floor. He didn't give up until Louis' back was pressed along his chest, his large hands clasped over Louis' stomach. Louis had been laughing. He was sure Harry was laughing as well, but pretty soon all sounds, even ones of terrible boy-band rappers, slipped away until all he could do was feel. Heat radiated from strong limbs and a solid chest that were way too close. 

It was fine though. Louis could handle it. 

Honestly, he'd have to be blind and dead to not have noticed how unbelievably gorgeous Harry was. He'd realized it the first moment he saw him, really. And if he hadn't realized it then, he was bound to realize it when Harry walked through the house in a teeny, tiny towel after his morning shower, coconut and strawberries and _abs_ hitting Louis in the face as he strolled past him with an energy bar hanging out of his mouth.

There was a part of Louis that would never forget how Niall referred to him as the bloke Harry "wanted to fuck" on the first day they had all properly met, but he wasn't going there because they didn't need to bring it there. _Louis_ didn't need to bring it there, and Harry probably had no real interest in bringing it there. 

Louis wasn't even sure where _there_ was anymore when Harry spoke low into his ear. "You can't renounce LFO's pop stardom just because you don't like them." 

Louis closed his eyes and tried not to move."Anyone who rhymes 'speaking' with 'Alex P. Keaton' needs to be stopped, Harry."

"I thought you were more whimsical than that." He released Louis suddenly and sat up against the headboard. "Submitting to social norms and stereotypes?"

"The social norms and stereotypes of knowing how to rhyme properly?" Louis refused to be disappointed by the loss of body heat. He preferred the blanket anyway.

"I don't know, Lou. Doesn't sound like you're encouraging LFO's 'creative growth.'"

Was he ever going to get over that? Louis had been impassioned! Impassioned rants transcended mockery. 

"Oh my God, I'm never talking again."

"Don't tease."

"Would you just shut the bloody music off?"

Harry bowed his head. "Yes, your grace." He turned the stereo off with the remote sitting on his bedside table. "Happy?"

"Quite."

"Can I do anything else? Perhaps you'd like a spot of tea while you insult the rest of my music collection?"

"Only if it's Yorkshire."

"Oh you'll probably want it straight from the source, right? I'll pack a bag."

"No, no," Louis waved him off. "You can't leave now. You'll be late for the meeting."

"What meeting?"

"The official meeting in which you and I discuss the details of your improvisational debut!" Louis flung his hands in the air excitedly. 

"Oh you remember that?" Harry replied monotonously.

Louis quirked an eyebrow. "You mean do I remember when you _begged_ me to let you 'experience it firsthand'?"

"Begged is a strong word."

"'Please, Louis!,' you said. 'Show me the light! Show me the way! Lead me through with your infallible wisdom!'"

Harry slid down to face him. "I didn't even know I knew such big words."

"You're a prodigy." Louis reached out to smooth one of Harry's stubborn curls into submission. 

"So what's the plan? Who am I going to be?" Harry asked. Louis sensed a tad more enthusiasm. 

"First off, we're going to have to travel to the next town over. Can't chance running into people you know."

Harry's fingers played with the hem of Louis shirt sleeve."But you do all your installations in town."

"Not all of them," Louis corrected. "Besides, _I_ am a master of disguise; an accomplished thespian able to evade people who've known me for years. But _you?_ " he poked Harry's cheek," _you_ are a mere pup. A kitten in the wilderness!"

"Am I a pup or a kitten? I don't think you can be both."

Louis sighed. "Which one would you rather be?"

Harry darted his tongue out to lick at the back of his hand." _Meow._ "

"Kitten in the wilderness it is." Louis chose to ignore the unnecessary tongue exposure. "Alright, so I was thinking of the scenario on the way home. Your name," he paused for dramatic effect, "is _Blaze._ " Louis waved his hand as if writing the name across the sky.

"Sounds douchey," Harry said, sounding excited at the prospect of playing an asshole.

"That's because it is." Louis went on, "Blaze: the American 90's pop sensation, yeah? You had a one hit wonder that was very big in Canada. To this day it remains in steady rotation in dentist waiting rooms and karaoke bars alike."

"That's a nice story. What do we do with it?"

"We sell it. Or, we try to. To someone out there." He pointed to the window where the curtains covered the big bad world. "We're going to convince someone that you're famous. We'll know we've been successful once they're crying and begging you for a picture to post on Instagram."

"You think you can get someone to beg for a picture with a person they've never even heard of?" Harry didn't sound convinced.

Lucky for him, Louis had enough hope for the both of them."I think _we_ can."

"Where?" Harry asked.

"Pub?" Louis figured a pub was as good a place as any. It would be Harry's first time and the inebriated pub patrons were probably more likely to buy bullshit.

Harry accepted it. "When?"

"Tomorrow?" 

Harry agreed. "Tomorrow." 

Louis dug deep for the strength to suppress his inner _Annie_ and refrained from bursting out into a Broadway ballad.

Harry shifted onto his back and reached over to grab the stereo remote. LFO infiltrated the room once again.

_When you take a sip, you buzz like a hornet. Billy Shakespeare wrote a whole bunch of sonnets._

If Harry wasn't careful _his_ tomorrow might never come.

\-------------

When Louis and Harry set off for the pub on Friday night, they were both dressed to impress and ready for action. Louis had wanted to kiss the ground Harry walked on when he'd emerged from his room sporting skinny jeans and a white t-shirt underneath a navy blue blazer. "Because my name's Blaze, get it?"

They took the bus to the next town over without incident. Harry brought his ipod along and they ended up listening to Pearl Jam and reading the dirty graffiti scrawled on the back of the bus seats.

Harry would periodically pause the music and attempt to plan specific dialogue for his debut, but Louis just pressed play and reminded him to live in the moment. He seemed to be a bit nervous and Louis wasn't calling it adorable, but if someone else called it adorable he wasn't going to object. 

Everyone was entitled to their own opinion.

Harry entered the pub first, on his own, at Louis' request. The entire act would be ruined if they were seen together. He wished Harry good luck and crouched down to watch eagerly through the window. Harry walked with confidence past the bar and to a small table by the far wall. He really was something else. A flick of his hair was all it took for a table of several girls to look like they needed to be retaught how to breathe. And somehow, Louis didn't think Harry had even entered his **Improvisation Zone** yet. He was simply walking across a room. Stopping otherwise healthy hearts was probably just a side effect of him leaving the house. 

Louis kept watching as Harry sat down. A male server walked over to him, probably taking his drink order, before nodding and heading to the bar. He hoped Harry had remembered to put on his American accent.

Louis waited the longest 5 minutes of his life before finally entering the pub himself. He took a seat at the bar and ordered a rum and coke.

When he discreetly looked over his shoulder towards Harry, two girls from the heart attack table were hovering over him, smiling like cannibalistic predators in heels. Louis thought they looked like perfect candidates for the installation. He solemnly swore to shoot his own foot off if they weren't proud owners of Instagram accounts. Louis slid off his bar stool, ready to walk over and get the ball rolling. With his body facing Harry and his future fans, he reached behind himself and grabbed his drink from the counter.

A woman's voice immediately called out to him. "Excuse me."

Louis spun around to face the woman he had been sitting next to."Yes?"

She grinned. "If you wanted a Cosmo all you had to do was order one."

"I'm sorry?"

She looked down at Louis' hand. He followed her gaze to where he was holding a cocktail glass filled with red liquid. His rum and coke remained lonely on the counter. 

"Oh! I'm sorry!" He set her drink back down in front of her.

She chuckled, "Not a problem."

The woman smiled and turned to get the attention of the bartender. He started to realize, as she ordered another drink, Harry's scene may have already begun. 

He slid back onto his previously vacated bar stool, taking a sip from his rightful drink. It was showtime. "Yeah, sorry again. I was a little distracted. I can't believe he's actually _here._ "

The woman paid for her second drink and took a dainty sip."Who's here, love?"

He sighed. " _Blaze_. I spent most of my teenage years obsessing over him you know. Never expected to see him in a pub. He's still as gorgeous as ever."

"Ex-boyfriend?" She guessed.

"What?! Oh God, I _wish!_ He was a singer. _Is_ a singer. Voice of an angel, really."

It didn't matter that Louis had never actually heard Harry sing, this happy accident was working out swimmingly.

"Blaze? Never heard of him. Where is he?" she questioned, beginning to look around.

"Right over there."

Louis pointed in the direction of Harry lounging back in his seat, fingers tracing the condensation on his glass. He shook his curls out at exactly the right moment and licked his lips. Louis almost forgot he should be speaking.

"He was really big in Canada." He watched the woman watch Harry, a slight smile on her lips and added, "In the 90's."

She looked back at him. "The 90's?"

"Mmhmm. So talented! Bit of a drug problem," Louis stage whispered,"but nothing a little rehab couldn't fix. And he's aged so well! Like fine wine. Some people have all the luck."

"You're one of them if you were a teenager in the 90's." She sounded a bit unbelieving. It was time to lay it on thick.

"You're sure you've never heard any of his songs? He had that single 'Never Going Down'. Brilliant tune! Although, a few more of these," he raised his glass, "and I'll be over there showing him why he should never say never."

The woman's laugh rang loud in Louis' ears as he sipped his drink smugly. He couldn't be 100% positive that this woman had an Instagram account, but he knew it wouldn't be long before Harry's shining face was posted on the social networking site of her choice. Hook, line, and sinker.

She tapped her well-manicured nails against her glass. "Well he is quite fit. How about a threesome?"

Louis choked on his rum as it slid down the wrong pipe. That had... escalated quickly.

The woman just stared at him, waiting for an answer.

"Uh," Louis quickly caught himself, "Yes! I mean we should at least offer. He's so far from home, we should show him some hospitality."

"Wonderful!" She stood up, smoothed her hands over her pencil skirt, and slung her bag over her shoulder.

Louis smiled at her and continued to sit until she cleared her throat, causing him to spring into action.

"Yes! Now! Let's go do it right now!" Louis drained the remaining liquid in his glass and the two of them walked towards Harry's table. 

The cannibal girls vying for Harry's affection were nowhere to be seen.

As they got closer, Harry looked up with a smirk on his face. If looks could say actual words, this one would be screaming, "yes, I know you'd like for me to fuck you, but there _is_ a line. Head around back, I'm sure you'll find the end of it eventually." 

It was a rather _chatty_ look, but it was also perfect.

Strangely, Harry's stare of superior sex appeal ran quickly away from his face when his eyes fell to the woman Louis had befriended at the bar. 

"Caroline?"

The woman's mouth held a wide smile as she jumped up and down, her breasts threatening to spill out of her shirt. "Blaze! I'm such a big fan! Will you sign my knickers?"

Louis looked between them. _Caroline?_

"Am I missing something?" he asked stupidly, because he was obviously missing everything.

"Darling, with a name like Harry Styles, you don't need a stage name like Blaze." She rummaged through her purse and pulled out a cigarette.

Oh, well this was great. He knew happy accidents were too good to be true."Oh. So you two know each other?"

Caroline lit her cancer stick and blew a neat stream of smoke into the air."You could say that."

"Caroline is friends with my mum," Harry elaborated.

" _Ouch._ Is that what we've been reduced to?" She placed her bag on the table and sat on Harry's lap, wrapping her cigarette-free hand around his neck.

Harry's hand seemed to automatically find it's way to her waist. It gave Louis flashbacks of the night before when Harry had tried to stop him from leaving his bed. It wasn't as though it mattered that Louis knew what his long fingers clutching his waist felt like. Besides, Louis was getting a feeling that Caroline was aware of a lot more than what Harry's _fingers_ felt like. 

"Okay," he relented with a smirk, "Caroline is friends with _me_ as well." Harry's eyes twinkled mischievously. 

"Best, best friends," she winked.

Were they serious?

"Oh, well, that's nice," he replied, quickly deciding to feign indifference to whatever game they were playing.

Caroline leaned forward and stubbed her cigarette out under the table."So what are you boys up to?"

"Just a little prank," Harry explained inaccurately.

A half hour ago it was an **Improvisational Debut,** and now it was a _prank._

"It's actually a little more than that." Louis pushed the drooping sleeves of his dress shirt a little higher."Sort of a study on the spectrum of human emotions. Manipulating situations, deciphering cognitive appraisal patterns... just a little performance art I've been working on."

Caroline wrinkled her nose and giggled."Bit too complicated for me, I'm afraid."

Louis could feel his blood pressure starting to rise. "Yeah, probably."

Caroline raised an overly plucked eyebrow.

"Lou really loves art," Harry explained simply.

She ran her hands through Harry's hair. Long red nails peeking through the strands."Oh what does _art_ even mean these days? Letting rats walk all over a canvas with paint on their feet is considered abstract," she chuckled.

Louis truly wanted to hear more about Caroline's theory on how animals were undeserving of creative expression because their limited tools hindered their ability to create the masterpieces she was hoping for, but he was a little busy eying the brick wall. He wondered how long it would take to extract a single brick from the cement. Maybe he could just take her entire head and slam--"

"So do you plan on manipulating any other situations tonight? Or would you be interested in accompanying me to a party?" Caroline proposed as she interrupted his murderous thoughts.

Um, no, they didn't have time for _parties_. Louis was already thinking of an alternate plan. There was another pub a few blocks away. Maybe next time Harry would start off telling someone he was famous and Louis would run over screaming and--

"What party?" Harry asked, intrigued. 

Obviously _Harry_ was done manipulating situations for the night.

"Just a little thing for a friend. I promise your mum won't be there." She stroked his face with one of her talons. "It's not that far from here. I'll even pay the cab."

Harry looked at Louis hopefully. "We don't have to."

Everyone in the free world knew _"we don't have to"_ was code for " _I_ want to do this, and if you say no I'll secretly hold it against you for the rest of your life." 

And Louis planned on living for a long time.

Louis pasted on a smile, hoping it wasn't dripping with disappointment. "Free cab ride?" It'd been a long time since he'd had an opportunity to use his Godfather material, so he took full advantage of the silver lining. " _Sounds like an offer we can't refuse._ "

Caroline looked between them, smiling. "Okay then! Let's go."

\----------------

 _"Not that far from here"_ was The First Lie. 

The cab ride took almost an hour. An hour that seemed like two after Caroline pulled a flask from her bag of tricks and passed it back and forth with Harry while they reminisced about the good ol' days. Louis now knew they had met when Harry's mother invited some of "the girls" over for lunch one day. Harry, 16 and too charming for his own good, interrupted the shindig when he came home from a morning-long footie match. He was sweaty and dirty and Caroline just _needed_ to have him. But she didn't. Not on _that_ day. But, like a really bad sinus infection, she returned. She swung round one day looking for Harry's mum when she knew Harry's mum wouldn't be home. One thing lead to another; cold drinks were offered, a tour of Harry's room was requested, and then a tour between Caroline's legs.

The story was told with a nauseating amount of detail courtesy of "Cazza". Louis hoped they were grateful he had refused the flask when Harry offered it to him. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from throwing up all over their faces while he was _sober_. Filling him with alcohol would certainly do them no favors.

When the cab finally stopped, they found themselves in front of a gated house. A gated mansion, really. A gorgeous white mansion with golden light spilling through the windows. 

As Louis stepped out of the cab Caroline giggled,"Oh no! I think I've left my wallet at home!" 

_"I'll even pay the cab"_ was The Second Lie.

Louis wanted to challenge her abrupt realization because he knew she had paid for her own Cosmos back at the pub, but Harry had already stepped in, suit of armor shining, "s'alright, I've got it," and forked over his own cash.

The Third Lie came to light as Louis followed Caroline and Harry when they stumbled through the mansion's front door. Apparently "just a little thing for a friend" was code for extravagant and Japanese themed.

Most of the partygoers were gathered in the backyard; an exquisite garden, decorated generously with tea lights and paper lanterns. Servers dressed in brightly colored kimonos swerved in between guests holding golden trays of sushi and frosty beverages. Many people were deep in conversation, seated comfortably on cushions, enjoying various dishes on low wooden tables. There was a gazebo to the far left where 2 men dressed as samurais were engaged in what seemed to be an endless loop of combat. And to the far right, underneath a bamboo tree, sat a woman outfitted as a Geisha, strumming some sort of stringed instrument.

Harry leaned on Louis' shoulder. "Wow."

Louis was amazed. "I had no idea we lived so close to Japan."

Caroline didn't look especially impressed. She plucked a colorful cocktail off a passing tray and threw the decorative umbrella onto the grass. "Ryland likes to overcompensate."

"Ryland?" Louis and Harry asked simultaneously.

She ignored their question, not paying attention as she surveyed the room. Her face suddenly lit up and she turned to Harry. "Darling, you _have_ to meet someone." She grabbed his hand and started to lead him away.

Harry tried to pull him along. "Lou, come on."

Caroline continued to tug on Harry's arm. "Oh he'll be alright for a few. Right, Lou? Have a look around."

Louis really should have taken that brick when he had the chance.

"Oh sure, _Cazza_ , I'll be fine."

He watched as Caroline dragged Harry back into the house, in the complete and total opposite direction of the actual party.

Louis wasn't angry. It wasn't like he didn't know anyone. It wasn't like he hadn't wanted to come to the party in the first place. It wasn't like Harry had just flat left him for a fucking 50 year old who was obviously gagging for it. To be fair, Harry was obviously gagging to give it to her.

Louis grabbed his own fruity concoction from a kimono clad server and took a much needed chug. When he removed the mini umbrella, he placed it in his pocket because he had never been in the business of littering someone's home like an uncivilized caveman.

He needed food, lots and lots of food. Looking around, he tried to focus on listing the pros and cons of sashimi versus dumplings, rather than the sting of Harry's abandonment. He'd just made his decision when a man appeared next to him.

"You look overwhelmed." The man was tall, he had to have at least 5 inches on Louis. His eyes were blue, his hair was sandy blonde and slicked back. He wore black jeans and a red t-shirt that featured a silhouette of Yoko Ono.

_Hello._

"Oh, well I guess I was." Louis admitted. "Couldn't decide between the sashimi and the dumplings."

" _Was, couldn't_... Glad to hear the turmoil is in the past."

"Believe me, that makes two of us." Louis said, and walked towards a table devoid of people, but covered in food and an abandoned tray of booze.

The man followed, watching as Louis filled his plate. " _Ah_ the sashimi. A sound choi-" He stopped speaking when Louis moved past him to the opposite end of the table, stopping in front of the dumplings. He filled the other half of his plate and plopped down onto a red and gold cushion.

The man laughed as he stood over him. "As I was saying, a sound choice."

Louis dipped a dumpling in sauce and popped it in his mouth. "I'd have to agree. These are delicious."

The man laughed again and claimed his own cushion across from him."So, who are you?"

It sounded a bit like an interrogation instead of idle party chit-chat and Louis snorted, almost choking on his raw fish. "Who am I?" 

The man looked amused at Louis' reaction. "What's wrong?"

"No, nothing, it's fine. So who am I? I'm not sure. Who are any of us, really?"

"Well, I'm Ryland," he offered.

So this was the guy Caroline had been talking about.

"No you're not."

Ryland studied him curiously. "I'm not?" 

Louis shook his head. " _You_ are dust. So am I. All we are is dust in the wind."

"Do you happen to go by a name _other_ than Dust?" Ryland chortled.

Louis trained his face into a serious expression."What, is Dust not good enough for you or something?"

It might have been a little _too_ serious. Ryland's face turned extremely apologetic. "I... No? I'm sorry I-"

Louis decided to take pity on him. This wasn't an act in one of his series. He was done with his installations for the night. Harry had made sure of that.

"Don't worry about it. I'm Louis. And I'm a little drunk, to be honest."

Ryland looked relieved. "That's okay. My parties are really only considered a success if someone's getting dragged out spewing obscenities at the end of the night. A couple more drinks and maybe that can be you."

"A boy can only dream," Louis replied, chewing around his food."So this is your party then?"

"Yeah it is." Ryland looked around. "It's a bit much, isn't it?"

"I just hope the Geisha is getting paid handsomely."

Ryland groaned. "Oh, she is. A little _too_ handsomely, I'd say."

Louis nodded and reached for another drink in the center of the table.

"Did I see you walk in here with Caroline?" Ryland pointed to a spot behind Louis' head.

Louis turned to see that Ryland was pointing at Harry and Caroline. They had returned and were busy taking full advantage of the all you could drink saké station. "Yes you did. Just met her tonight though. She's a friend of my friend. That tall, curly one over there."

"Ah, I see. So why aren't you over there with them?"

He wasn't too keen on turning their conversation into the scene where he admitted to being deserted by his kinda, sorta roommate and his kinda, sorta roommate's lady friend.

"Because the food's over here," Louis replied easily.

"And the best company," Ryland added as he finally started to eat his own food.

"And suddenly I have an astounding urge to go try that saké," Louis joked.

Ryland snickered, "I'd definitely recommend it. Best saké I've ever had. Got a couple cases sent over from Kyoto after I visited last month. God, that sounded incredibly pompous, didn't it."

Louis scrunched his nose. "Little bit." He laughed as Ryland hung his head. "Amazing that you've been to Japan though."

"Yeah, Japan's great. I'd love to go again. I was there for work, so most of my sightseeing was done in a hotel room and the airport gift shop."

Louis knew he'd give up at least one of his Wizard of Oz dolls (one of the munchkins) to be able to say he had to jet off to Japan for work. He'd take the view from a hotel window. Give _him_ the airport gift shop.

"What do you do?"

"I'm an architect." Ryland answered. His tone was questioning like he was asking Louis if it was okay.

It was a-okay with him. "Really? Did you design th-"

"Don't ask it!" Ryland pleaded.

"What?" Louis asked, confused.

"You were going to ask if I designed this house," Ryland said, like there was no room for denial.

"No I wasn't," Louis lied, trying to contain his grin.

"Oh, yes you were, and then I'd have to kick you out of the party."

"Well that would be a shame. But you can relax because what I was _going_ to say was,'Ryland, why is it that you get so defensive when people ask if you've designed your own home?'" Louis was nothing if not quick on his feet.

Ryland chuckled. "Everyone who learns about my job automatically assumes I can't live in a house unless the blueprints came from my sketchbook."

"Well _I_ don't think that. Now that you mention it, I distinctly remember walking through your front door and thinking to myself 'wow, I bet the owner of this place had absolutely nothing to do with the design process.'"

"Well you were wrong."

"Huh?"

Ryland pointed in the general direction of his house. "I designed the house. The blueprints are framed in the kitchen." 

"Why the kitchen?"

"I'm not really sure."

Louis shook his head. He was sure the conversation had been much less riveting 5 minutes ago.

"So where else have you been?"

Ryland hummed in thought. "Let's see. I switched companies about 2 years ago, so since then I've been to Mexico, Argentina, Italy, China, Japan, and I'm supposed to go to Alaska in a few weeks."

"So everyone will be back for your Alaskan soiree then? Building their own igloos, seal skin boots as party favors?"

Ryland snapped his fingers. "Damn, you've figured out the secret plans."

Louis shrugged, "I'm stealthy like that."

"I could use that around. Maybe you should come along and build an igloo of your own."

 _Igloo_ had never sounded dirtier.

"Sure, I've been looking for an excuse to wear my parka."

Ryland grinned, "I have a feeling you'd look cute dressed as an eskimo."

Louis would have pointed out that he wasn't kidding about the parka, but he was attempting to flirt like a normal person.

"Oh, you think so?"

"Yeah." Ryland agreed, maintaining some pretty intense eye contact.

Maybe Louis was getting ahead of himself, but maybe not. Ryland was interesting, and easy to talk to, and he was pretty easy on the eyes as well. Louis wasn't afraid to admit (to himself) that it had been a little too long since he'd been with anyone. The last guy Louis slept with was an American tourist he met in Amsterdam named Rob. They literally bumped into each other in the red light district. Giggles were exchanged, pints were shared, dicks were sucked; it was all very rom-com-esque. That was six- no- seven months ago. Seven months. Louis wasn't exactly desperate, but he couldn't stop himself from hoping Ryland believed in hooking up at first sight.

Things were looking up.

Harry, of course, chose that exact moment to deem Louis worthy of his time. "Lou, are you ready to go?" He slumped down next to him.

Absolute perfect timing.

"Um I'm not sure?" Louis glanced at Ryland. "Ryland, this is my mate Harry, the one who's friends with Car-"

Harry snorted, " _This_ is Ryland?"

Ryland either didn't notice Harry's rudeness, or chose to ignore it as he offered Harry his hand, attempting a handshake. "Nice to meet y-"

Harry wasn't exactly interested. He ignored Ryland and leaned his head on Louis' shoulder. "Lou, I just wanna go home. Let's go home and hide all of Zayn's Batman stuff."

Louis stopped for a moment. It was an evil, yet entertaining fantasy. "I like the way you think, Harry, but-"

Harry moved his head off Louis' shoulder and stared at Ryland. "We live together, you know." 

"Oh?" Ryland looked to Louis. "I used to have a roommate, too, before I moved here. Really nice place overlooking a river."

Louis tried to focus on Ryland and not the fact that Harry smelled like a brewery."That sounds-"

"Louis doesn't have a river. He doesn't even have his own room. He sleeps on the couch." Harry picked up Louis' drink and chugged the rest of the contents.

Louis pinched Harry's leg under the table. "Harry," he warned lowly, like he was reprimanding a five year old. 

"Ow! It's true, Lou! Ha that rhymes. True Lou. _Truey Louis_. You could sleep in my room if you wanted you know. We could be pirates. I'd be Jack Sparrow. And we could make a fort. I'll buy the sausage!" He reached over Louis in search of another drink.

And okay, maybe he _was_ reprimanding a five year old.

Louis grabbed his hand to intercept his movement, causing a lone cocktail to almost fall over onto the table. Ryland stuck his hand out quickly to save it when Harry... tried to _bite_ him, snapping his teeth like a rabid dog.

And seriously what the hell was in that saké?

" _What are you_ \-- Okay." Louis stood up, tugging on Harry's arm to get him to follow suit. He turned to Ryland, "I'm sorry, I should help him get home."

Ryland stood as he said his goodbyes, not visibly perturbed after almost being attacked. "Oh, no that's okay. It was really nice meeting you."

"Yeah nice meeting you, too. Wonderful party! Sorry I'm not being dragged out spewing obscenities," Louis said, trying to keep the mood light.

Harry wasn't quite finished being charming though. "Aw, Ryland! You're not coming with?! You guys could fuck on the couch! It's okay! It's only half mine!"

Ryland smiled, looking confused. "Looks like Harry wins."

Yeah, it looked like Harry fucking won.  
\-------------------------

The nights had been getting colder as October got older, and that night, standing outside Ryland's gated home with Harry, was no exception. The wind whipped against Louis' face, sending chills up his body. He wasn't wearing a jacket, but he had faith that his boiling anger would keep him warm.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" He spun around to face where Harry had dropped himself onto the curb.

"A lot of things, I think," Harry slurred.

Well at least he could admit it. That was the first step, right?

"I have to say I'm surprised to find that saké is your kryptonite. Or did you and Caroline sneak off to Liam and Zayn's drug den after you left me alone in a garden full of strangers?"

The stoner jokes had truly become a force of habit. It couldn't be helped.

"You didn't look too lonely," Harry mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, you didn't look too lonely," Harry raised his voice, but kept his eyes on the ground. "You looked pretty damn happy on your _date._ " Harry picked up a leaf and started pulling it apart.

Was Louis actually hearing things? Was he actually as crazy as Harry had originally accused him of being?

"Oh yeah, Harry, you caught me! I was on a date! With someone I met at a party an hour ago."

"Whatever."

"You know, the only reason I was even talking to Ryland was because he saw me standing there alone, and _hmm_ , I wonder why _that_ was."

"Ryland's not even a real name!" Harry shouted.

" _You can't renounce Ryland's name just because you don't like it._ " Louis intentionally whined, imitating Harry's comment on shitty boy-bands from the day before.

"It's not a real name if I say it's not a real name!" Harry burped, "I have the power."

Louis tipped his head back to address the night sky. "I'm not drunk enough for this."

Harry yawned. "Shoulda asked Ry Ry to get you something a little harder. Maybe his cock would've done the trick." 

"You are so fucking drunk," Louis muttered. He knew Harry wouldn't be saying any of those things if he hadn't been three sheets to the wind. Louis pulled out his phone. He needed to call a cab to drive them back to the house that wasn't his, so he could fall asleep peacefully on a couch he didn't own. He finally found the number to a local cab company and started dialing when, "Shit. I didn't cash my pirate check."

"Pirate check?" Harry looked up at him, eyes wide, curls askew, looking beautifully disheveled.

It only made Louis angrier.

"The pirate check, Harry! The money from Tommy Blackburne's fucking party. I haven't cashed it yet. I don't have enough money for a cab all the way back to your house. Do you have any cash?"

Harry turned his pockets inside out, his wallet and keys fell out onto the ground.

Louis picked the wallet off the cement. Chanting, "please, please, please," he opened it and found nothing but an old gum wrapper that was slowly swept away by the wind.

"Well this is marvelous! I hope you realize your _best, best_ friend Caroline essentially had us driven to Asia and stole all your money. We're going to have to call Zayn now. And he is going to kill us for making him wake Lucia at such a late hour, Harry."

"No." Harry protested. 

"No? No what?"

"Don't call Zayn." Harry let himself fall back onto the ground, spreadeagled, as if he were making a snow angel on the concrete. "I'll walk home and you can stay here with _Ryland_. I'm sure he has plenty of room in his Japanese love nest!"

Louis let his hands drop to his sides. "Are you insane?"

Immediately after he asked the question, he decided he didn't really want an answer. He just wanted to get out of the cold. He looked back down to his phone and sent Zayn a quick text for help.

Harry's voice could barely be heard when he spoke. "I am insane."

"What?"

"I said I _am_ insane," he repeated louder. He pointed at Louis,"you _make_ me insane."

Louis was beyond words.

Actually, no, he wasn't.

"Me?" He had officially reached his boiling point. " _I_ make _you_ insane? _When_ did I make you insane exactly?"

Harry sighed like the conversation was tiring him. And that was just too damn bad.

"No, really, I'd love to know, Harry. Was it when I completely screwed up our plans just so I could fuck some gross, conniving, blast from the past? Or, ooh I know! Maybe it was when I lost my goddamn _mind_ and attempted to bite off someone's hand! Oh no, wait! Looks like those are _your_ highlights from the night, my mistake!"

"I didn't fuck Caroline!" Harry revealed fiercely, standing up to face Louis head on.

Louis' eyes narrowed. "You didn't?"

"She wanted me to," Harry added, "I _tried_ to!"

Louis scoffed in disbelief. " _Oh_ well what happened? I'll wait here if you wanna head back and give it another go."

Harry exploded, "I DON'T WANT TO _GIVE IT ANOTHER GO!_ AND IT'S _YOUR_ FUCKING FAULT!"

Harry wanted to have a screaming match? Well Louis was the reigning champion. "WHAT ARE YOU _TALKING_ ABOUT!?"

"I'M TALKING ABOUT YOUR SMILE! AREN'T YOU PAYING ATTENTION?!" Harry deflated. The tension seeped out of him as he looked Louis straight in the eyes. "I'm talking about your smile, Louis." He inhaled and exhaled deeply, Louis watched his breath dance past his lips and through the chilled air.

"And I'm talking about your eyes," Harry stepped closer to him, "and your hair," he reached out to rest his hands on Louis' shoulders. 

Louis was sure he stopped breathing when Harry ran his hands down his arms and back up to his neck, his inexplicably warm fingertips dipping beneath Louis' collar. 

He was too close again, and Louis wasn't sure he could handle it this time. Still, he moved even closer as he continued to whisper, "and your hay bale, and your football-playing Gran."

Louis couldn't move. He was frozen in place. Harry's breath ghosted over his lips. He still smelled like a brewery; maybe a brewery that had a strawberries and cream air freshener in the corner. Louis was dizzy with it.

"Does she really play football, Lou?"

"I-- I don't know. She's dead."

"I'm sorry. You can share mine. But I don't think she knows how to play football."

"Harry."

"We could probably teach her."

"Harry."

_The hiiiills are aliiiive, with the sound of muuuusiiiic_

Louis mentally threw himself off a bridge when his phone started ringing with a text message alert.

Harry groaned,"Who is that?"

Louis checked his phone, pausing momentarily while he quickly reminded himself how to read."It's Zayn. He said to take a cab and he'll leave us money in the mailbox."

Harry took Louis' phone from his hand and slipped it into his pocket."Louis."

"What?"

"I want to kiss you."

"You're drunk."

"I want to kiss you all the time."

"You've known me for a week, Harry."

He wrapped his arms low around Louis' waist. "I know. Exactly one week today. It's our anniversary." 

Louis couldn't help the snort that erupted from him."Oh my _God._ "

He could feel Harry's smile as he began to place light kisses along the side of Louis' neck."You've been a pain in my arse for an entire week."

Louis was going to die. He was going to die right there. "You should try an icepack, or some Advil, or a warm bath to- "

That was just about all the medical advice he could lend before Harry finally sealed their lips together. And with that, Louis finally let his hanging arms fly to where they wanted to be. He gripped onto Harry's shoulders, slid his hands beneath Harry's blazer. He ran his hands across Harry's back, slipping underneath his shirt to rub circles at the warm skin. He did it all, lips never leaving Harry's as he kissed him back with a fervor that threatened to destroy him.

Eventually he had to pull back to breathe, but Harry didn't seem to have any need for oxygen as he held him closer and refused to let Louis pull his lips away. Louis tugged on his hair to bring him back to reality. He'd ended up yanking a little harder than he had intended though, and was about to apologize when Harry moaned.

And Louis couldn't think about that too much, it would do absolutely nothing to help him breathe easier.

"Harry. Wait. Just wait a second."

Harry finally eased up, pulling back, but not going far.

"S'not my name."

"What?" Louis whispered, trying to catch his breath.

Harry leaned down to nip at the shell of Louis' ear and breathed, "I'm Cashier Harry."

Louis leaned back, his eyes searching Harry's face. There was no sign of an emerging punchline. Ashton and his camera crew never popped out of the bushes.

He took Harry's face in his hands and rubbed a thumb over his bottom lip, before closing the gap between them again.

He didn't really need to breathe. Oxygen was overrated anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! More to come soon.
> 
> Let's try it in Japanese, shall we?
> 
> 読書のために本当にありがとうございました！すぐにもっと来て。
> 
> And if that's wrong, please send grievances to google translate.


	10. Chapter Motherfucking Ten.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title should give you a behind the scenes look into my experience while writing this godforsaken chapter. 
> 
> I really. really. hope you enjoy it <3

Zayn cursed as a particularly strong gust of wind blew through the living room window and extinguished his cigarette.

For the fourth time. 

Deciding it was some kind of sign, he returned the barely smoked stick to it's package and slid the window shut.

Pushing off the window sill, Zayn turned and took a moment to observe Liam as he sat on the couch, head tilted back to drain the last drops from his beer bottle, blue light from the TV flickering over his features. It was probably the millionth time that week that Zayn had been suddenly struck with how beautiful he was. 

He stepped behind the couch and leaned down to whisper in Liam's ear.

"It's a funny world we live in."

Liam angled his head back and brought his fingertips up to gently run along Zayn's cheek. "Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars?"

Zayn grabbed Liam's wrist with both of his hands."No!" 

_"But I know how you got these!"_ they rasped in unison as Liam broke Zayn's hold and pulled him over the back of the couch while Christian Bale pushed Heath Ledger off a building.

It was their third viewing of The Dark Knight. It was a bittersweet movie for them. Definitely one of their favorites, but it tended to make them think about Heath Ledger's untimely death which then tended to make them contemplative. Zayn reached out and squeezed Liam's thigh from where he had landed next to him, upside down, with his feet hanging over the back of the couch. He could feel the wave of a thought-provoking discussion rolling over the room.

"You okay, babe?"

Liam picked up the remote and paused the movie.""He just had so much left, you know?"

"I know."

Liam poked his side. "What do you think happens when we die?"

It was a question Zayn was familiar with. Growing up around death his entire life certainly made him think of it often. He wasn't sure if he believed in God, found he had a bit of an issue with confining himself to the beliefs of one religion, and had inevitably developed some of his own theories.

"I think whatever you believe happens, will happen. Sky-high pearly gates, all the hamburgers and milkshakes you can eat, an eternal rollercoaster ride; whatever you want."

It was sort of a vague theory. Pretty open to interpretation. But that was kind of the point.

Liam took it in. Zayn could see it rolling around in his thoughts. "What if you believe nothing will happen?"

"Then, I guess nothing will happen."

"Well where do you want to end up? Or was the never ending hamburgers and milkshakes your idea of heaven?"

Zayn scratched his stomach through his shirt. "I'm more of a hot dog lover."

"That's appropriate," Liam smirked.

Zayn gasped in mock offense, "and that was very _inappropriate_ , Liam." 

Liam chuckled and bent down to kiss Zayn's nose. "Alright, so your eternal life?"

Zayn took a second to think it through. 

"I used to go to this lake house with my family when I was a kid. It was this place that was built right over the water. I mean, you could dive off the front porch directly into the lake. And I loved going there because it meant my Mum and Dad didn't have to work, and when I was a kid I always wanted to get as far away from the funeral home as I could. I wasn't scared or anything, I was too used to it to be afraid, plus my parents never really let me around the corpses until I was older. But kids were mean to me, you know? They teased me at school. Real original stuff-- _vampire_ , saying I was in a _devil family_. There was even this one week when everyone thought I was a cannibal. That actually wasn't so bad, though. No one really bothered me because they were terrified I would eat them," Zayn laughed halfheartedly at the memory. 

Liam apparently couldn't even see half the humor. "I hate those kids."

Zayn sighed, "yeah, I did, too. I really, really did."

"It's never too late to become a cannibal, babe. We'll get your revenge." He looked oddly serious.

Zayn took Liam's hand and laced their fingers together. Lucky for those kids he wasn't interested in retaliation. Although he couldn't say the same for Liam. The heartwarming morals from watching The Punisher a few days before must have really taken root. 

"What was I talking about before?"

"Lake house," Liam reminded him.

"Oh yeah. So it was a good place to get away. Our own little oasis. I never did anything that special; just read, or swam, or slept the day away, but I've never found a place more peaceful. It was kinda like a dream."

Liam stroked his thumb over Zayn's hand affectionately. "So the lake house porch is where you're spending forever and a day?"

"Nah, I'm going to Amsterdam." Zayn brought his index finger and thumb to his mouth and breathed in deep."Smoke away the afterlife."

Liam unraveled their entwined fingers to smack his arm. "You're unbelievable." He wore a smile on his lips as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the couch. "I liked the lake house idea."

"Yeah?"

"Sounds nice." He peeked down at Zayn through a single opened eye. "Maybe I'll go myself." 

Zayn threw a hand over his heart. "Without me?!"

Liam stretched his arms above his head, his back cracking while his shirt rode up to reveal skin Zayn was already obsessed with touching."Hey, you'll be a little busy blazin' the days away."

Zayn picked his beer up from it's unsteady place on the carpet and remained upside down while he took a sip. A small amount of liquid escaped as it ran down the side of his mouth. He probably should have sat up to prevent drowning himself with a corona, but he had no room for regrets when Liam quickly chased the descending drops with his tongue. He swore that tongue was going to be the death of him. Maybe he wasn't entirely sure _where_ he wanted to spend the afterlife, but it scared him a little to think about how much he wanted to copy and paste that tongue and the boy attached to it into his hypothetical image of the great beyond.

"How about we take the lake house exactly as it is and move it to Amsterdam?"

"Can we do that?" Liam asked, eyebrows raised in interest.

"Course we can," Zayn assured. "It's the afterlife. You start getting exactly what you want the day that you die."

Liam frowned."That's sort of depressing."

"Or incredibly optimistic," Zayn countered.

Liam snagged Zayn's beer from his hand and took a swig before agreeing."Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay," he restated, "Amsterdam Lake House it is."

Zayn hoped more than anything his theory on death was true. 

"I've never been to Amsterdam," Liam revealed as he returned Zayn's drink to him. "Louis went a few months back."

"Why didn't you go with him?"

"It was during one of our separations."

"Separations?"

"We love each other too much to get divorced," Liam explained, "but a nice separation now and again keeps us from killing each other. Keeps _me_ from killing _him_ , really. One of us skips town for a couple days and the other stays home and fixes the vacuum."

Zayn snorted, "you stayed home and fixed the vacuum?"

"It was therapeutic," Liam shrugged.

Zayn was trying to figure out why the image of Liam home alone and reading a vacuum manual was even the least bit attractive. He had probably been sitting on the floor at the time, lubing up seemingly insignificant pieces of metal. 

Or not. 

Zayn had no idea how to fix a vacuum cleaner, but either way, Liam had probably been shirtless. 

Zayn had a vacuum. Maybe Liam could fix it. It wasn't broken, but Zayn was sure that was something _he_ could fix.

His grease-stained fantasy came to a disappointing halt when his phone began beeping madly. "Speaking of your husband."

"It's Louis? What'd he say?"

Zayn read the message quickly to himself.

_we're stranded in Japan!!! no $$$! AWAKEN Lucia!!_

He relayed the message monotonously to Liam who seemed to be as confused as he was. "I think... they need a ride?"

Zayn yawned, "I probably shouldn't drive." He shifted to lay his head on Liam's lap. "I also have no idea how to get to Japan by car."

Liam carded his fingers through Zayn's hair gently."Tell them to take a cab. I'll leave them money in the mailbox."

"Thought you were skint until the Joneses go on holiday," Zayn said, recalling Liam saying something about a dog-sitting gig for a family in his building.

"Yeah I was, but Lou picked up our mail and I got a few survey checks earlier than expected, so now I'm temporarily rich."

Liam already told Zayn all about the various ways he made money. He was filled to the brim with anecdotes about the seedy underbellies of parade cleanup crews, and the harsh realities of video game testing. The online surveys were also a semi-consistent source of income. 

"What's temporarily rich?" Zayn inquired.

Liam hummed in thought. "£661.25 No wait, it might've been £661.35"

" _Six hun_ \- Are you serious? From taking surveys?!"

"It's an art form," Liam insisted, "Louis' not the only creative one in the family."

"Clearly I'm in the wrong profession," he said in awe, typing out a message to Louis with Liam's plan of hidden funds in mailboxes.

Liam yawned, "wanna watch another movie?"

\---------------

_Although I haven't seen him in more than ten years I know I'll miss him forever._  
 _I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve._  
 _Jesus, does anybody?_

Zayn sniffed as _Stand By Me_ came to a close. "Why did we watch this movie?" 

Liam wiped at his glistening eyes."We're stupid."

"Why do we even _like_ this movie?"

Liam threw the remote onto the far end of the couch."Worst ending ever." 

"Netflix has this categorized under feel-good-family-summer-flicks?" Zayn asked, appalled

"Wouldn't be the first time Netflix has wronged the people," Liam said with a pout.

Zayn sighed, wanting to turn both their frowns upside down."How about Toy Story to cheer us up?"

Liam still looked sad and it made Zayn's insides flutter when he realized he knew what was wrong.

"We can fast forward through the montage of Woody being replaced by Buzz ."

Liam lit up with a grin that reached his eyes. "Alright!"

Zayn hopped off the couch to retrieve the movie from the shelf when he noticed a loud rumbling noise. 

"What's that sound?"

Zayn tiptoed to the window, staying low. He peered out tentatively and relaxed when he saw the taxi idling in front of the house.

Liam appeared next to him. "What is it?"

"I think it's Haz and Lou."

Sure enough, the car door opened to reveal Louis and Harry as they fell out of the cab. Louis stayed, swaying as he held onto the open door while Harry sprinted up their walkway to grab the money Liam had left for their cab fare. 

He ran back and paid the driver, giggling madly as Louis slammed the door shut. The cab driver sped away into the night as Harry began walking back to the front door. Zayn was about to greet them with a friendly _konnichiwa_ , when Louis tugged Harry back by his shirt and jumped into his arms. Louis' legs wrapped around Harry's waist as Zayn noticed he was cloaked in the same blazer Harry had been wearing when he left the house. None of that would have mattered much if Harry hadn't surged up suddenly to plant his lips firmly against Louis', grabbing hold of Louis' ass along the way.

Well okay then.

"Oh my God!" Liam exclaimed. "Did you know about this?!"

"Liam you really think I'd keep this a secret?" He stared back out the window, using the edge of his sleeve to wipe where his gaping mouth had fogged up the glass."Jesus, look at them go."

"I can't believe this! I can't- Zayn! Get away from the window!"

"Ow! What? Why?" he asked laughing as Liam almost dislocated his arm.

"We shouldn't spy on them!"

"They're in the middle of the bloody street."

"Come on, let's go to bed." He sidled up to Zayn, kissing below his earlobe, attempting to use his manly wiles to distract him from the spectacular opportunity that had recently arisen. It almost worked. 

Zayn groaned. "This is going to be too good, though! Louis gives us so much shit. This is our chance to get him back! Remember that revenge talk from before? Let's go dump a bucket of Gatorade on them or something! It'll be fun! And babe, it'll be so much more legal than cannibalism."

Liam raised his eyebrows. "You have a bucket of Gatorade?"

"No," Zayn muttered petulantly. 

Liam slid his arms around Zayn's waist. "You've only had to deal with Louis for a week. And it hasn't even been that bad." 

That was easy for Liam to say. He was the celebrated author of **Selective Hearing** : _A Guidebook to Being Louis Tomlinson's Friend_. Zayn, on the other hand, was just a lowly fan of his work who had barely gotten through half of the first chapter. 

"Are you forgetting the whole weed thing? Are you forgetting _this morning_?"

Zayn was of course referring to earlier that day when he had opened the shower curtain to find one of Louis' mysterious pieces of firewood sitting in the bathtub. Completely made over, Louis had painted it to resemble an enormous blunt.

Liam tried to explain away. "Well, you know Louis."

Zayn wasn't having it. "He stayed up all night making it."

"He's dedicated to his craft."

"It was sanded, Liam! And he used a gloss varnish!"

"Oh," Liam said quietly, "I didn't notice the gloss." 

Zayn felt his eyes trying to to bulge out of their sockets. "How could you miss it? It almost blinded me!"

"Come on," Liam said subtlety leading him to the stairs. "They'll tell us tomorrow, alright? Let's give them their night to be happy and tomorrow we'll make them miserable, okay? We'll fill the bathtub with chocolate frosted heart shaped cupcakes and we'll ruffle their hair."

Zayn shook his head fondly. "Babe, I don't think you're physically capable of making anyone's life miserable."

"That's what you think! Louis prefers vanilla cupcakes to chocolate ones. He'll be really disappointed they're not vanilla." Zayn watched as Liam's plan caught up with his brain. He already looked guilty. "Maybe we should fill the tub with the chocolate ones just as a scare and bring out vanilla ones later on?" 

He looked at Zayn hopefully. It was Bambi frozen in the headlights. It was a Sarah Mclachlan commercial. It was the look that could potentially persuade hardened criminals to sit in the corner and think about what they've done.

Zayn peered back towards the window. He couldn't see anything scandalous since Liam lead him away, but Harry and Louis hadn't come inside yet so they were probably still sucking each other's faces off.

He thought about the other day in Gilligan's when Louis had pulled Liam's face off his, actively ruining their moment. Zayn was itching to return the favor, but he was willing to respect their friends' privacy until morning, for Liam's sake.

"Alright," he acquiesced, "sleep first, and _tomorrow_ we'll taunt them with cake."

"And ruffled hair," Liam reminded him as he took Zayn's hand.

"You know, there's a chance that might legitimately make Harry fall in love with you."

"Well that's a surefire way to piss Louis off," Liam whispered slyly.

"You're an evil genius, Liam Payne," Zayn said, genuinely surprised Liam was capable of such schemes, as they climbed the stairs leading to the room that was steadily becoming theirs.

\----------

The kitchen was silent.

There were no heated debates over the legitimacy of tuna can portraits. There were no arguments over who deserved the last of the cocoa puffs; no chants of "chug, chug, chug!" in the final moments of an orange juice drinking contest.

There _was_ one big awkward silence, though. It came in the form of an elephant sitting right between Louis and Harry. It was a shame only Zayn and Liam could see it. It would've been a great conversation starter.

Zayn supposed describing the kitchen as silent wasn't entirely accurate. There were the enticing sounds of Harry's gulps as he shoveled cereal into his mouth like it was his first and last meal on the planet. And then they had the symphony of soft swishes and clinking of metal against ceramic as Louis dragged his spoon through his bowl of milk. Zayn wasn't sure if he even realized he hadn't poured his cereal yet.

After witnessing their passionate embrace the night before, Zayn expected they'd-- well he wasn't exactly sure what he expected. But he imagined some kind of dialogue would be involved. Maybe a hand holding? God forbid a smile. 

Mutual smiles were probably a bit too much to ask for at the moment. Harry and Louis looked like they'd rather be anywhere in the world than next to each other. It would probably be a bad time to ruffle their hair. 

Zayn exchanged questioning looks with Liam. He knew that Liam was equally as confused by the drastic change of mood.

"So did you guys have a good time last night?" Liam asked carefully, apparently trying to break the ice.

Harry's eyes darted in Louis' direction as a bit of cereal fell onto his shirt.

"Must have been pretty wild," Zayn continued to press where Liam had left off. "Getting stranded in Japan and everything, I mean."

Louis tore his attention from his bowl. "What? Oh. Yeah."

Harry opened an energy bar and stuffed the entire thing into his mouth. "affa oh ooh oook"

Zayn nodded like he understood. "Oh, okay."

Harry swallowed as he stood from his chair. "I have to go to work," he repeated, and shot another glance at Louis. "I'll be there 'til 3."

Zayn already knew that information. "Right, regular Saturday shift, yeah?"

"Yeah, I'm just making sure everyone knows where I'll be. You know? Just in case."

He was ridiculously transparent.

"Alright, I'll see you guys later." Harry inched closer to rest a hand on Louis' shoulder, causing Louis to jump like an electric current had run through him. "Bye, Louis."

"B-Bye, Har- Cash- Bye." Louis stuttered without even looking up.

Harry frowned and with his head hanging, left the kitchen. Zayn could hear the front door squeak open and close with a soft click.

What the hell was wrong with them? Giving them shit wouldn't be any fun at all at the rate they were going. It was only fun to annoy the overly happy. Zayn wasn't into kicking people while they were already down.

Liam seemed pained at the sight of his best friend who held his head in his hand and resumed making waves in his bowl."You okay, Lou?"

"I'm fine," Louis snapped.

Liam ignored the hostility and tried again."Any more parties coming up?"

Louis' face softened. "Booked for Wednesday."

"What kind of party is it? No, let me guess!" Liam said playfully. "Bar Mitzvah?"

Louis smiled weakly. "Something like that."

Liam's eyebrows furrowed as he looked towards Zayn for help.

"We're gonna watch a movie if you want to join. Your choice," Zayn offered.

Louis stood and emptied his liquid breakfast into the sink. "No thanks, boys. I have some things to do today. Starting a new series."

"Really?," Liam asked, surprised. "You hardly finished the last one."

"Inspiration struck. I decided to roll with it."

"Well do we get to hear about it?"

"All in good time, dear Liam." Louis plucked his tote bag, now devoid of firewood and waiting to be filled by something as equally ridiculous, from the back of his chair. "I'll see you love birds later. Have fun _watching your movie._ " His eyes were still sad, but he managed to waggle his eyebrows suggestively. 

"Oh come on! We're really watching a movie!" Liam insisted.

Louis shot him with an unconvinced look as he sashayed through the kitchen and out the front door.

Liam continued to defend their innocuous plans to the kitchen walls."But we really are watching a movie."

He rubbed Liam's back. "I know, babe."

If it was anyone else he may have had his doubts, but one of the best things about Liam was he didn't make Zayn feel the need to screw around every second of the day. Whenever Liam wanted to fool around Zayn was completely on board (and on Liam), but he really felt like there was more to it. They were connected on a higher level, a _deeper_ level. And it really was nice to kick back and watch all his favorite movies with someone who loved them just as much as he did. Zayn was truly looking forward to spending a lazy day in with Liam on his day off. Enjoying each other's company, snuggled underneath the blankets, Liam's head on his shoulder...

Maybe they'd finally watch Toy Story.

\------------  
 _Reach for the skyyy_

" _Ohhhh._ _Oh fuck!_ " Liam shouted out, blunt nails digging into Zayn's bicep as Zayn fisted his cock at medium speed.

"You like that?"

" _Yeah_ , yeah, no, w-wait- do the twisty thing, the twist-" Liam's mouth opened and his eyes rolled back into his head as Zayn complied.

"You close, babe?" Zayn asked. He gripped Liam a little tighter as he sped up his movements.

" _Shit_ \- yeah. Didn't wan _nuhh_ \- didn't wanna come like this."

Zayn licked his lips and with his hand still flying over Liam, dove down to bite his shoulder. "You want my mouth? Wanna come in my mouth?"

Liam moaned, " _No._ "

Zayn immediately released his hold on Liam's dick. "No?"

Liam almost twisted Zayn's hand clean off his wrist trying to pull him back. "No!- I mean- _yes_ I do."

It sounded like a green light to Zayn.

He moved to lick into Liam's mouth once, twice, three times, before trailing kisses down his body to his final destination. Liam's cock was an angry red. Zayn didn't want it to be angry though, so he gave a quick kiss to his shaft before swallowing it down whole. 

" _Oh fuck!_ \- I just- didn't want Toy Story- _mmmm_ \- in the b- back- _oh my- ohh_ \- in the background."

He slid off of Liam with a suctioning pop."Just block it out, babe." 

_You're goin' to jail, Bart! say goodbye to the wife and tater tots!_

"Oh God." Liam lifted his hands over his own head before bringing them down to land in Zayn's hair as he tongued Liam's slit.

"Fuck my mouth," Zayn breathed.

"Zayn, I wanna-"

"You wanna come? Come on, fuck my mouth. Let me taste you."

Toy Story became a distant memory as Liam slammed his mouth down roughly. Zayn may have sputtered, but hey, he asked for it. He got used to Liam's pace quickly and relaxed, letting Liam glide over his tongue and to the back of his throat. " _Oh fuck Zayn_ "

He could feel Liam getting closer. He could feel himself getting close, even though he hadn't been touched. Zayn decided to change that and moved a hand inside his sweatpants to jerk himself off as Liam continued to thrust his hips. 

It was then, on the brink of mutually mind-blowing orgasms, that there was a resounding knock on the door.

Liam's hips stopped moving almost immediately and he whimpered when he pulled out of Zayn's mouth.

"You must be fucking joking," Zayn panted.

Liam looked like he was on the verge of tears. "Maybe it's Niall."

Zayn didn't care if it was the bloody queen."Niall has a key. He would have let himself in. Same for Harry." Zayn dove back down to resume his work.

Liam stopped him."Maybe it's Louis."

"He would have picked the lock," Zayn groaned and let his head fall onto Liam's thigh in defeat.

The knock sounded again, louder.

"WHATTA YOU WANT?!" Zayn yelled out, looking over his shoulder towards the door. If it was anything short of an apocalypse, Lucia was gonna be carrying around some spankin' new cargo.

A low voice echoed through the door."Zayn? it's me."

"Dad?" He glanced towards Liam who flew off the couch at the word. Zayn tried to keep himself from falling to the floor as Liam scrambled out from under him.

"It's your _Dad_?!" he asked in a whispered panic, eyes wide.

What was his Dad doing there? Zayn rushed to pull his shirt over his head, swiftly flipping through the mental file cabinet of his known responsibilities. He worked the day before, didn't have to work again 'til Sunday, no family outings were scheduled as far as he could remember, and he sure as hell didn't invite his father over for brunch.

Liam was already fully redressed, shirt buttoned up completely to the collar as he fumbled with the remote to turn off the TV. Zayn adjusted himself through his pants and moved to open the door.

"Nononono!" Liam whispered frantically. 

"Babe, it's fine. He probably doesn't even remember what you look like."

Zayn knew that was a lie. His father had a knack for remembering names and faces. Especially when he had those names and faces posted on the wall with the word banned scribbled across. Zayn hadn't seen the pictures of Liam and Louis before he met them because it had been a recent addition to his Dad's office and Zayn never had much reason to go in there. He'd heard the infamous story about _the two idiots that almost got buried alive,_ but he had been off that day and it hadn't really affected him other than giving him a good laugh while his Dad scolded him for being amused by such stupidity.

Liam's hair was a bit longer than it had been in the picture his Dad had taken of him. Maybe he wouldn't realize who Liam was. 

"Zayn, please don't, you've just had my cock in your mouth!"

"I know." He licked his lips. If only he could turn back time.

The knocking grew louder, still, causing them both to jump. "Zayn!" His father shouted.

"Liam, I have to open the door," he said regretfully.

Liam bit his nails and looked around nervously. "Okay." He looked straight at Zayn and nodded, a look of determination in his eyes.

Zayn smiled. "It'll be fine, yeah?" He reached for the doorknob. "It'll all be okay."

He looked over his shoulder once more to reassure Liam with another smile, and turned just in time to see him running to the cupboard under the stairs.

He wasn't serious.

"Liam!" Zayn hissed as Liam shoved himself into the small space and slammed the door behind himself." _Li!_ " 

The knocking had turned into full on banging as the door frame began to rattle. "Zayn! What are you doing?! I need to speak with you!"

He took a deep breath and wrenched open the door. "Hi, Dad."

His father's face was riddled with disbelief as he moved past him and entered the house.

"What were you doing?"

"I was sleeping," Zayn answered quickly.

"But you answered me," his father pointed out.

It was a good point.

"I know," he admitted, trying to think of an excuse that left out the part mentioning him deep-throating Liam's sizable cock. "I was naked."

A solid start.

"And sleeping. I was sleeping naked on the couch. I needed to find pants."

His father exhaled audibly. "I need you to work today."

"What? _Why?_ " Zayn whined in disappointment. He was sort of hoping it was going to be a hello/ goodbye kind of a visit and he and Liam could continue watching Toy Story.

"Priscilla quit again," his father explained. "I've been trying to phone you for the past hour."

"My phone's upstairs. We-- I've been out here all morning. On the couch. Sleeping--"

"Naked," his father filled in for him. "Yes, I heard you the first time. But now that you're awake and you've found your pants," he gestured to where Zayn's sweats hung low on his hips, "I would appreciate if you could work today."

"Uh yeah sure, I'll meet you there." It wasn't so bad. His dad would leave, Liam could come out of the _cupboard_ , and they could both _come_ before Zayn _went_ to work.

His father, or -The Destroyer of Dreams- had a slightly different plan as he shook his head and smiled. _Smiled!_ "No need, we can just take my car. Let Lucia rest."

Zayn was almost sidetracked by his father's genuine concern for his sweet baby Lucia, but he didn't lose focus.

"I have to take a shower."

His father took in his appearance. "You do look a bit sweaty. I can wait."

"You're just going to wait here?"

"I believe I just might."

"You're just going to sit there on the couch and wait for me to take a shower?"

"Best take the loveseat if you were naked on the couch." He moved to sit down.

"But, Dad I--"

They both froze at the sound of what Zayn identified as a few dozen of Niall's food drive cans crashing to the cupboard floor.

"What was that?" his dad asked, startled.

"Nothing."

"Zayn, it was clearly something."

"We have rats." 

"You have--" his father trailed off as the front door soared open and Niall came running in, barreling past them. He turned his head to acknowledge them as he headed for the stairs. 

"Mr. Malik! Hey! How ya doin'?" he greeted.

"Niall! Good to see you! I heard all about the food drive. I'll have to donate in the funeral home's name."

Niall tripped on the carpet, falling into the cupboard door. "That would be great! Listen, I really don't want to be rude, but I have to run. Just needed to get my shovel!" He steadied himself and reached for the doorknob. 

Zayn put his hands out in front of him, trying to stop Niall from eight feet away. "No no! Niall, don't! The rats!"

It was too late. Niall gave Zayn a confused look, "the rats?" and ripped the cupboard door open. Liam came tumbling out along with the fallen cans, falling to the floor with Niall's shovel clutched to his chest.

Harry had told them to move that goddamn shovel.

"Liam." Niall didn't look that surprised.

"Hi, Niall," Liam said quietly, his eyes scrunched shut.

"Oh, cool, my shovel." He took the metal tool from Liam's offering hands."Why were you in the cupboard? Actually, tell me later. I gotta go. See ya!" Niall waved and frolicked out the door as quick as he ran in.

There was another crash as a few more cans rolled out of the cupboard stopping at Liam's legs. It felt like a lifetime before his father spoke. "Shall I call pest control?"

Liam finally opened his eyes to look up at them.

"Uh. Dad this is Liam.," Zayn said, finally finding his voice. He walked over and helped Liam stand. "Don't worry, be calm," Zayn whispered with a reassuring squeeze to his arm.

His father looked like he might laugh, which was a better reaction than anyone could have hoped for."Is there a specific reason _Liam_ was in the-" 

And there it was. The inevitable look of realization. "You."

"Me," Liam hung his head and nodded.

His father didn't look like he wanted to laugh anymore."What are- Zayn, what is he-"

"It's my fault," Liam blurted out. "I didn't know he was your son! And then the water, _so_ much water! And Zayn was so generous, you really raised him right, you know? He's really very kind, and he let us stay here while everything was sorted and he didn't know I was banned! Well, he did... but not before we met! And like I said he's so kind and wonderful so he didn't hold it against me." 

Liam quickly backtracked. "But it's not like I wouldn't understand if someone _did_ hold it against me! Because what we did was _wrong_ and a disgrace to the dead! And your family's business! And just, don't be mad at Zayn."

"You're staying here?" His father asked, shocked.

"Yes. But- no! not anymore! I'm leaving right now. I just need to collect my things." He surveyed the room and ran over to pull his phone charger out of the wall. He picked up his shoes by the door next before freezing by the stairs. "Um, my bag's upstairs. But it's not like I've been sleeping up there or anything, it's just to save space. I'll be right back."

Zayn wasn't going to let Liam do this to himself. He wasn't going to let his _father_ do this to Liam. "Liam. Stop."

Liam nodded at the floor. "You're right, that was a lie. I have to _stop_ lying. I _have_ been sleeping up there. In Zayn's room. Me and Zayn. We both sleep in there. My clothes are in the drawers, my jacket's in the closet." Liam almost sobbed, "it's a really comfortable bed!"

Zayn tried not to laugh because Liam was obviously distressed. He just wanted to kiss it better. 

"Dad, Liam hasn't done anything wrong. You banned him from the funeral home, okay? not _my_ home, or my _life_ , and you know we're both consenting adults so it's not like you really could-"

His father didn't seem to be interested in the speech on how Zayn was a big boy now. "Go take your shower, Zayn. I want to talk to Liam."

Zayn shook his head. "I don't think-"

"It's okay, Zayn," Liam assured him.

He didn't like leaving them alone. But Liam looked certain with his decision, standing as tall as that first day when he'd proudly told Zayn his name. His dad didn't look like he was on any sort of war-path and Zayn would just be down the hall, so he nodded, squeezed Liam's hand as he passed him, and reluctantly headed to the bathroom. 

\-----

Zayn stepped out of the bathroom after his shower feeling refreshed as heat collided with the cool air, creating smoke that billowed around him like the beginning of an 80's rock show.

He had tried to be as quick as possible while still trying to listen for any signs of Liam calling out for help, but nothing could really be heard over the steady stream of the shower.

Zayn walked down the hall in his towel, hoping he wouldn't have to do any major mediation before he was able to get dressed, when he heard Liam talking animatedly.

"And then we thought it might be nice to have the one with the window as the focal wall, but we're still deciding on a color."

His father's voice joined in just as happily. "Have you thought about sponge painting?"

Liam considered his words in a dreamlike tone." _Sponge painting._ "

"We painted the girls' bedrooms a few years back and a sponge _really_ adds some nice texture."

Zayn had reached the edge of the hallway and looked in the living room to find it empty. He followed the voices and found Liam and his father in the kitchen. Sitting at the table. Drinking tea.

"I can't believe he didn't mention that!" Liam said as he stirred a spoonful of sugar into his drink. "We've been going crazy trying to think of ideas!"

His father laughed heartily. "Oh he couldn't have been too interested in sponge painting back then. He was probably blasting his punk music and ripping the brand new jeans his mother bought for him."

Zayn slowly showed himself, already a little afraid of what was happening, and more than ready to stop his dad's little trip down memory lane. "Everything alright in here?"

Liam's head swiveled to look at him as he sauntered in the room. "Zayn! Sponge painting? Does it ring a bell?"

"Maybe?"

Liam shook his head. "It's a good thing your father stopped by."

"It is?"

Liam nodded and took a sip of his tea. "The living room walls will thank him later."

"Yeah, they've always been pretty polite." Zayn looked to his father who was enjoying a tea-dipped biscuit. "I'm almost ready to go. Just gotta get dressed. Uh, Li are we meeting at the Market later?"

"Oh no, he's not meeting you later," his dad protested. And _seriously_? Zayn was really going to have to deal with _this_ shit now? Two seconds ago it looked like they were the best of friends chatting over heated beverages and then-- "Liam's coming with us."

He was?

"He is?" Zayn could feel the shocked expression on his face.

His father nodded. "He'll be filling in for Priscilla."

Zayn took a second for the statement to settle around him. "Liam's going to work at the funeral home."

"Yes," his father confirmed happily. "For the time being. You know Priscilla. She never stays gone for long."

"That's okay! I'm flexible!" Liam announced.

Zayn smiled to himself. He sure was.

Liam looked a bit worried all of the sudden."By the way, is what I'm wearing okay? Do you think it's professional enough?"

"For answering a phone and re-alphabetizing twenty year old files? Yeah, your jeans are probably a little too casual," Zayn smirked.

His father crumpled up a napkin and threw it at him."Zayn, you stop it. You look _fine_ , Liam." 

Liam did look fine. He looked more than fine, really. Zayn might have been a sweaty mess before, but Liam must have showered in the cupboard 'cause he was looking powder fresh. Except for his tousled sex hair, but Zayn wasn't complaining and his dad probably chalked it up to being _the style_. 

And the more Zayn thought about it, the more he realized how brilliant Liam would be as their receptionist. He had the exact kind of gentle voice that was needed when speaking to people who were planning for what was almost always a traumatic event, and he was sincere enough that his sympathetic manner wouldn't be seen as pitying. He was also almost annoyingly organized which would undoubtedly come in handy.

"I'm just kidding. You look perfect, Liam."

His father smiled. "I agree. Now, Zayn, maybe you should go find your pants again, hm? You're making Liam late for his first day."

He left them to their tea, hovering by the staircase for just a minute more of eavesdropping to make sure Liam wasn't in some kind of _play happy for Zayn_ hostage situation.

Although, Zayn seriously doubted it with the way Liam was talking. "They say you should buy a throw pillow that you love, and then just create a room around the colors of that one pillow. It's foolproof!"

His father clapped his hands together. Zayn could tell it was him, even through the wall. "Genius!"

"Unfortunately, we haven't been able to find the right pillow yet," Liam said rather sullenly.

The sounds of plastic crinkling and popping filled the kitchen as his father undoubtedly retrieved another biscuit. "Oh, you'll find it, Liam. I know you'll find it."

Zayn was usually the one to call Priscilla after one of her temper tantrums. _He_ was usually the one to drive over to her house with a box of chocolates and convince her to come back because he hated being the substitute receptionist significantly more than all the other things he hated. But as Zayn climbed the stairs to get ready to finally bring Liam to his home away from home, he decided he wouldn't be calling Priscilla this time. With any luck, maybe no one else would call her either. Maybe this time she wouldn't bother coming back at all.  
\-----------------

"And I spoke to your mom about the old filing system. We both agreed that Priscilla's way was best for _her_ , but adding those color coded tabs will really be revolutionary."

Liam closed Lucia's (front) passenger side door gently and waited for Zayn to double check the locks. They had just left work and were around the corner from the Market, on their way to help Niall with all things Food Drive related.

"And you know you can use them outside the reception area, too, babe," Liam pointed out.

Zayn held onto Liam's hand, letting their interlocked fingers swing between them."Yeah, I stole some of your blue and red stickers. Me and my Dad always get our tools mixed up so I color coded the handles."

Liam's mouth dropped. "That's where they went? I thought I miscounted!"

He let go of Liam's hand in favor of swinging an arm around his waist and pulling him closer."So you like it there?"

Liam threw his arm around Zayn's shoulders. "Yeah, I really do."

When the the Market came into view, it was already being broken down. 

They finally located Niall and watched him from a distance as he stood a few paces away from the pumpernickel wasting lady from the week before. 

This week she was armed with a handful of bagels. She reared her arm back and flung four of them in a row through the air like frisbees. They all landed, one after the other, in her infamous black trash bag. It was actually pretty impressive. Niall didn't look especially impressed though. He wore an unidentifiable look on his face as he strode towards the woman purposefully. Zayn watched the woman, momentarily worried she was the reason Niall had unexpectedly pulled his shovel out of storage. He was about to shout out to Niall and remind him he needed to stay out of the clink in order to help the hungry, but before he could say anything, Niall raised his hand high and exchanged high-fives with the bread-wielding woman as she pumped her fist in the air.

It wasn't long before Niall noticed them watching. He scooped up a trash bag and shuffled over to where they stood. "Hey guys."

"Keepin' your enemies close, Ni?" Zayn guessed.

"What?"

Liam elaborated, "Isn't that the wasteful 'old hag' from last Saturday who wouldn't give food to starving children?" 

Niall smiled, "eh, water under the bridge, lads!" He leaned in close to whisper, "the starving children thing only happened in my dream," and stood tall to announce, "plus Helga's totally into the food drive! Look how much leftover bread she gave us!" He opened the black bag to reveal a plethora of slightly squashed sustenance.

Zayn and Liam jumped as a baguette soared through the air and into the open bag in front of them. Niall turned his head and shouted,"Nice one, Helga!

Never a dull moment, Zayn thought as he lit up a cigarette.

 _Attempted_ to light a cigarette, anyway.

Before he could get a steady flame, Niall plucked the stick from his lips and shoved it into Zayn's jacket pocket. "Keep your carcinogens away from the food please."

Liam looked pretty pleased. 

"Sorry," Zayn grumbled. Seasonal gusts of wind and Niall's charity work were systematically forcing him to quit smoking.

"Where's Louis and Harry?" Liam asked, looking around.

Niall hauled the bread bag over his shoulder."Louis' not here. Harry's working a double shift."

"But he said he was only working until three."

"All I know is he called me 'bout an hour ago and said he had to work another shift." Niall suddenly turned away from them, letting his bag drop to the ground. "Hey Mick! Yeah! I see those potatoes over there! We talked about this! It's for a good cause!" 

He turned to face them again. "D'you think you could help Helga and Jean load the rest of the bread over there?"

"We're here to help with whatever you need, Ni," Liam said.

"Great, thanks a lot. I'll be back." He squinted his eyes and looked out into the distance where a man with a handlebar mustache was hurriedly packing away boxes of produce in his van. "I've gotta see a man about some vegetables." He stalked away yelling, "Fuck's sake, Mick! Just 'cause they're yours, doesn't mean they have to be yours forever! You grew the _vegetables_ , maybe it's time you grew a damn heart!"

\-----------

Zayn and Liam arrived home that evening, exhausted. It had been a long couple of hours trying to overthrow Helga as the champion of Backhanded Bagel Toss. _Trying_ being the operative word. At the end of it all, Helga still held the title and Zayn and Liam had ended up sweaty and humiliated as they held neither a title or their dignity.

Niall had eventually returned covered in dirt and a little bit of blood, holding a box of potatoes. Nobody asked any questions as he grabbed their bags of bread and announced he was going home to take a shower. He was due to meet up with them at Zayn and Harry's for dinner.

Liam had called Louis about fifteen times within the past two hours to find out where he was and what he was doing, but Louis hadn't answered. The minute Zayn had opened the house door, Liam was pushing past him and calling Louis' name. Zayn followed him as he marched to the kitchen. Louis was there, wearing a tye-dye apron and stirring something on the stove. 

"Louis, where were you?" Liam asked frenziedly.

Louis didn't look up as he used a spatula to move the unidentifiable food around in his pan. "I was right here."

Liam moved closer to Louis."Are you seriously cooking?"

Louis picked up the olive oil on the counter and poured an unhealthy amount onto the food. "Don't worry, you're not seeing things. The cannabis wasn't laced."

Well it was good to know he was back to normal.

Liam was apparently dead set on receiving real answers. " _Why_ are you cooking?"

 _"Because,_ Lee-yum, Zayn has been generous enough to let us crash here and I thought it might be nice to make him a home-cooked meal."

"And Harry," Liam reminded him forcefully.

"Hm?"

"You said 'Zayn has been generous enough.' Harry's also letting us stay here."

Louis rolled his eyes.""I know that. I meant him too."

"Okay." Liam relaxed before Louis picked a bottle off the spice rack and shook out enough of it's contents to cover all the food in the pan plus the surrounding area of the stove. "What are you putting on that?"

Louis sighed. "It's only oregano, Liam. No need to get excited."

Liam looked behind him where Zayn was leaning against the kitchen door frame. He had that same look of determination from before. The one that looked completely at home on his face right before he locked himself in a cupboard.

"We know you kissed Harry!" Liam blurted out.

Louis dropped his spatula on the floor. "What!?"

"I _said_ , we know-"

"I heard what you said!" Louis spat. He looked past Liam to stare Zayn dead in the eyes.

Since Louis was looking at him he thought it would be a good time to jump in the conversation."Why are you guys acting so weird? When we saw you outside last night you were sucking on each other's faces."

"You were _spying_ on us?" Louis accused, his stare burning like acid.

Zayn had jumped into the conversation and he was just going to jump right on out. It was none of his business anyway.

Liam screeched, "No!"

Louis turned his gaze back to Liam before he could turn Zayn to stone. "You're unbelievable! One little water-based tragedy and you turn to drugs and voyeurism?"

"Louis, I smoked half a blunt, could you give it a rest?" There was a new tone in Liam's voice. It was a strange tone. Something unfamiliar.

"There's a fine line between shaggy haired Liam smoking half a blunt and _Payne_ the dead-eyed drug lord," Louis scoffed. 

Zayn recognized the unfamiliar emotion now. Liam was _angry_. "You're avoiding talking about Harry! And your- whatever it is you're cooking- is about to burn the house down!"

Louis glared at him before noticing the thick smoke emanating from his pan. "Oh shit." He turned off the burner and lifted the pan of almost completely charred food with a pot holder, tilting it towards them. "See, Liam? _This_ is your brain on drugs!"

He dropped the pan back onto the stove noisily and strode into the living room.

Liam followed him but Zayn only had to pivot in the doorway to stay as close as he wanted to be to their interaction.

Louis picked up his tote bag by the foot of the couch and the duffel bag he had brought with him the week before.

"What are you doing?" Liam demanded.

"I'm going home, Liam. To _our home_. I have things to do and I need space, and my own bed. And Zayn, I appreciate everything you've done for us and I'm sure I'll be seeing you every other day for the rest of my life because you and Liam have morphed into the same person, but right now I need to go."

Did Louis really think he and Liam would last that long? Zayn pondered, before mentally punching himself in the face. It wasn't the time to be thinking about kids with Liam.

His brain had said the word, though, and he soon found himself incapable of not thinking about the damn kids.

"You're leaving _now_?" Liam pointed towards the kitchen, exasperated. "You were just cooking!"

Louis slid his feet into his toms and ripped off his apron, stuffing it into his bag "And now I'm not!"

Liam threw his hands in the air."You really are insane!"

"I'm sane enough to know when it's time to move out of Sid and Nancy's house!"

"Whatever. Have fun with a broken bathroom!"

"Have fun breaking bad!"

"WOULD YOU _LEAVE_ ALREADY?!"

"GLADLY!"

The smoke alarm started going off as Louis slammed the door with a force that threatened to dislodge the hinges. Liam said nothing as he continued to stare at the spot where Louis had recently stood.

Zayn thought it was best to leave him alone for a few minutes, but a few seconds was all Liam needed before he turned around calmly. "Let's order pizza."

\--------------

One smoke alarm ripped off the wall and two orders of cheesy goodness later, Zayn, Liam, and Niall were all seated on the living room floor, digging into the first box of recently delivered pizza.

Niall had asked after Louis but after lots of covert gestures behind Liam's head advising him to cease and desist, he decided to just roll with Lous' absence and eat his food.

They were just polishing off their first course when Harry walked through the door looking decidedly peppy.

"Hey guys. Sorry I'm late. And Niall I'm really sorry I couldn't make it to The Market today. I'll help you organize some cans later, alright?"

Harry didn't leave room for Niall's or anyone else's commentary before he asked, "Where's Louis? I need to talk to him."

Zayn was ready for a few more bouts of awkward silence, but Liam just unsealed the second box of pizza and answered him causally. "He went home."

Harry ran a hand through his hair and dropped his keys into his sweatshirt pocket. "What do you mean he went home? _Your_ home?" He asked quickly. He went on when Liam nodded. "Isn't it like 45 feet below water or something?"

"It wasn't so bad, actually. I left your house number with our landlord so he could get in touch with us just in case, and he left a message before saying the damage is minimal. We're allowed to move back in next Friday."

It was true. Not long after Louis had fled the scene, Zayn had checked the answering machine to find a new message stored, but no blinking light, implying that someone-Louis- had already listened to it. 

"Okay but today isn't next Friday, so why isn't Louis here?"

Liam sighed heavily."He wanted to go home, Harry."

Harry wasn't accepting it that easily."That's what he said?"

"Yes."

"Those were his exact words?"

"Yes."

Harry looked like he was ready to ask a million more questions, but he also looked like he knew all those questions would inevitably leave him with the same undesired answers. "Okay then."

Harry didn't look sad anymore. He looked... pretty pissed off, actually. He stormed out of the room and stormed back in in the same breath, grabbing the second box of pizza before turning on his heel once again to stomp up the stairs and slam his bedroom door.

"He took that well," Niall commented, sounding impressed.

Zayn massaged Liam's shoulders. Even though he looked calm as a cucumber, Zayn could feel the tension radiating from him. "Well how else was he supposed to take it?" Zayn asked. "Louis left, there's nothing he can really do about it."

Niall shook his head and pulled a mars bar from his pocket."Nah, I meant the pizza. Didn't even see him coming. Think I'm gettin' too used to giving food away. I'm losin' my touch."

Liam stood up suddenly. "I think I'm just gonna go to bed."

Zayn looked at the clock. It was only 10:13pm. "You want me to come with you, babe?"

"No, it's okay, I'm just really tired, probably fall asleep straight away."

Zayn wanted to go with him, but he had a feeling Liam wanted to be alone for a while. "Alright. I'll be up in a bit then." 

Liam pasted on a half smile and leaned down to kiss him deeply. "Night, Niall."

Niall called out a, "Night, Li." as Liam ascended the staircase.

It wasn't long before Niall was giving him a knowing look and making quick work of setting up the Xbox. It looked like it would be up to FIFA to cleanse their wounds once again.

Niall handed him a controller and a fourth of his mars bar as Zayn looked up to the ceiling. He closed his eyes and pretended he could hear the sounds of Liam settling further down into the sheets of his (their) bed. Somehow that visual was more vivid, _louder_ even, than the actual vibrating pulse of that stupid LFO song playing on repeat in Harry's room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Official apology for bringin' da angst.~
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. More to come soon. :)


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